In Treatment
by Chefie1
Summary: Set towards the end of season 2, a few months after the episode of 'In Sickness'. Alicia eventually agreed to therapy with Peter. Bear with me as we explore the Florrick's complex marriage. :)
1. Prologue

_**September 7, 2009**_

_"Why did you go to her?"_

_Looking up and into those familiar green eyes, the depth of hurt that immediately greets me is enough to knock me off of my feet. I__'__m not ready for this conversation and I know we aren__'__t.__ We stand on opposite sides of the custom kitchen island in our dream home, having a discussion that has the power to make or break this marriage._

_"Peter, answer me."_

_"At that time, I let people get into my head. I began to feed into the newly acclaimed power."_

_She stares at me. Her __gaze__ is focused and unyielding. I can tell she isn't satisfied with my answer but I am not going to elaborate more on this unless probed._

_"So, it was your ego trip that allowed you to have sex with me, then go out and do the same with a prostitute?!"_

_"No, I never said that."_

_"But you did it! Didn__'__t you?!__"_

_There are tears in her eyes now and it breaks my heart. I take a tentative step forward._

_"No. I never ha__d sex with both of you consecutively."_

_My response almost knocks the wind from her body, I can tell. She grips the edge of the counter and breathes in and out deeply, trying her best to keep it together. _

_"So why, Peter? Why did you cheat?__" __A lone tear trickles down her cheek as her bottom lip quivers and hands continuously grasp the edge of the dark granite for support.__"__Was I not enough for you?"_

_ My head drops in defeat. I can__'__t be the sledge hammer that breaks what__'__s left of my wife__'__s heart._

_ "__Alicia__…"_

_"Answer me!"_

_I feel __what can only be described as worse than shit. How can we go down this path with fresh wounds still bleeding uncontrollably__?_

_"I began working later hours. When I came home, you were already sleep. Many times I reached out for you and you weren't in the mood. That continued on for months. I guess...it got to me."_

_She scoffs. "It got to you?"_

_ Taking__ a __brave breath, I inch forward a little more. "Look, let's not go there again, alright?"_

_ She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her shirt, her bloodshot eyes looking around the room, at anything but me. I know she hates me, hates that I__'__m literally breathing the same air as her right now. _

_ "__Tell me one thing."_

_Tears are rolling down her cheeks now. Once again, I__'__m the one making her cry__.__ Not the 24-hour news channels that has analyzed her image to the core or the voicemail she got every time she tried to phone her mother for solace. No. It__'__s me. Again. The man who vowed to her nothing but happiness. If her father was alive today__, __I__'__m sure__ I __wouldn't be standing here._

_"Okay."_

_"Did you ever not use a condom?"_

_A pregnant pause fills the room as her eyes penetrate my soul, her fist covering her mouth, seeming to keep her from losing it completely as if how I respond next will be the death of her. _

_"No. I used one every time__.__"_

_ She slowly lowers her balled hand from her mouth and folds her arms across her chest. Her soft sniffles fill the room and echo off the quiet walls. _

_ "__Was there anyone else?__"_

_ Memories flash through my mind of the young and exotic beauty of a private investigator I hired two years ago. Our working late one night, led to having a couple tequila shots, which eventually led to her head between my thighs and then me taking her on my desk. _

_ "__No.__"_

_ Her eyes meet mine, seeming to sense the whiff of my lie. I can__'__t tell her this. I won__'__t destroy what__'__s left of her. The press is doing enough of that._

_ "__There wasn__'__t anyone else, Alicia.__"_


	2. Week One: Peter & Alicia

**(Present Day****—****Spring 2011)**

Week One: Peter & Alicia

They stood on opposite sides in the elevator, a grave and telling distance between them. Neither bothered saying a word, let alone acknowledging the other after they exchanged courteous hello's. He was pressed against the warm wood grain and brushed gold panel, his hands buried in his pockets as he watched the numbers continue to rise while she eagerly responded to emails on her phone, never daring to look his way.

It was their first day of marriage therapy and neither was thrilled to be here. After their infamous fight about a month ago now, Peter truly thought they were beyond repair this time around. Her discovering that he had an affair with Kalinda was the last blow. It was as if she was his punching bag and he had finally taken the last hit, causing her to crumble to the ground in defeat. Two days after she pleaded with him to 'say something to make her fall in love with him again', did she file for legal separation. That, was a move he didn't see coming.

So when he arrived to her apartment to pick up Zach and Grace one Friday for the weekend—courtesy of their joint custody agreement—shock was an understatement when she invited him in "to talk".

She wanted to know where they were going from here, whether they really had a shot at being married, _truly married_, again. The mention of divorce never made it into her list of scenarios. He honestly didn't have a concrete answer for her, other than he didn't want to lose her and counseling was the only solution that seemed plausible. It took her finishing her glass of wine and seeming to think her life through every failed situation while he quietly watched with baited breath, before she agreed. Thus, they were now arriving at the office of renowned marriage psychotherapist, Dr. Adam Lewis.

The elevator cab slowed to a stop on the fiftieth floor in the commercial high-rise building, the gold paneled doors finally opening. Alicia couldn't exit fast enough.

He walked behind her, inhaling a deep breath. What would happen within their next scheduled hour and a half, he didn't know. But the fact that she actually arrived said enough.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Florrick. You are right on time." Peter's eyes met those of the young receptionist, who he assumed was of some latin heritage. She was attractive. _Very _attractive. Her caramel skin, long dark hair and slight accent certainly peaked his interest. "You can actually go on in. Dr. Lewis is ready for you."

He was careful to politely nod and offer a thank you, not letting his gaze linger. Catching the watchful eyes of his wife observing him over her shoulder, he was relieved that he was indeed on his best behavior. He was certain he had passed her little test: looking, but barely looking and not touching. Her simple movement of walking up to their therapist door and waiting for him, spoke volumes.

"Mr. and Mrs. Florrick. Welcome."

They slowly walked into the therapist's office, hesitant as expected, as they ingested the modern, but homey surroundings. Peter slowly shut the door and came to stand beside Alicia as they continued to fully partake in the place they would be revealing their inner most feelings.

Dr. Lewis' space was minimally decorated. A frosted glass bookshelf, filled with psychological books and numerous awards, covered the right wall,. Then an L-shaped glass desk that served as his technological command center, sat to the left, against the narrow floor-to-ceiling window, leaving a very open and vast space for the sitting area, or what he liked to call, the 'Feng Shui area'. Beginning at the door and panning to the opposite end of the bookshelf, it composed of a long slate grey cushioned couch, matching love seat, an expensive looking antique coffee table, imported oriental rug and finished with a modest brown, leather executive chair for their therapist. Positioned right across from the couch. Dead centered.

Alicia gave it all a one-over for the last time, settling on the fact that while it was a bit eccentric and a little cozy, it wasn't overly done.

Dr. Lewis stepped down from the two lighted steps that led from his desk towards the Feng Shui area, and walked over to them, extending out a hand towards the couch, hoping to steer them away from the door.

"Please, have a seat," he said with a gentle smile.

Peter was first to position himself on one end of the surprisingly comfortable sofa as she sat on the other. Just like they had in the elevator.

Adam immediately took note. Adjusting his black, thin framed glasses on his face, he gripped a pen and his trusty leather bound notepad and sat in the designated chair across from them.

A moment of silence passed between the three as he took this predicted cumbersome silence to observe their body language. His trained eyes scrutinized the way Peter sat with his legs gapped open and hands clasped in his lap, while his shoulders were relaxed against the back of the couch. Although minimal, each were a clear sign that he felt positive about being here, that he was open to the experience, despite the continental distance he and had his wife had established on the furniture.

Adam's grey eyes focused back on the wife. Ah, wives were never easy patient's. Nearly seventeen years in this field told him that she would be a tough cookie to crack. From the moment she walked into the door, he knew he had his work cut out for him.

Alicia remained seated as far from her husband as possible, almost as if she was attempting to bury herself in the corner of the seat, while her legs remained tightly crossed and body angled slightly towards the door with her feet positioned away from her husband. Clearly, she didn't want to be here.

"I hope you didn't have much trouble finding the office. This building is fairly new." His soothing Irish tone broke the still silence.

"Not at all. It was easy to find," said Peter. "Also, thank you for seeing us on such short notice."

He nodded. "Not a problem."

His gaze switched to Alicia again, wondering if she had anything to add. Her mouth was locked tight in a thin line, almost as if her lips were sewn shut. She stared at him as if she was a student in class, waiting to be called upon to speak. He formed a mental note.

"Ah, well, so that I ensure to make most of the hour and a half you're paying me a ridiculous amount for, I guess we can break the obvious, awkward silence and start with why you are here."

Peter offered a dry smile at his joke while Alicia continued to lack any emotion.

"I am aware of some of your history given what was shown in the press, and during our brief consultation, Peter." He shifted within the seat. "But I want you to know, we can spend as much time as we need, getting to the root of the matter as to why you've sought my help."

He glanced at both of them, hoping they understood, specifically Alicia. His veteran eyes noticed that she was still, completely closed off.

This couple fit into the mold of a small group of patient's he had compiled a study on over the years from his practice. They were the prime example of a pair that were tensely mute, that began each session like the calm before the storm. That when they least expected—or he expected—they would unleash layers upon layers of suppressed emotion they never knew either had buried.

Adam was positive that was the case for the Florricks. They were like strangers on his couch. Complete strangers who had lost the ability to speak. In fact, they were more so like children. He wondered if this had been their first encounter since he reserved a spot for them last week.

Folding his hands to rest beneath his chin, he inhaled a deep breath and looked at the individual who seemed to be aware as to why he was here.

"Why don't we begin by talking about what led you to seek counseling. Peter, would you like to start?"

Alicia looked to her husband for the first time, waiting with baited breath for what he would say. The sudden movement didn't go unnoticed by their doctor.

He nodded, "Alright." Clasping his hand together, he relaxed back into the hand-woven European fabric and pursed his lips. "I guess…I wanted us to try counseling because I…" He took a moment to find the right words. "I want to save my—our marriage."

"Is it in jeopardy of dissolving right now?" Adam gently prodded.

"Maybe." He looked to Alicia briefly. "Well, no…but, it's not exactly perfect."

"I don't think any relationship is."

Peter's broad shoulders slumped back against the chair. "As of right now, we're separated."

Adam nodded slowly as he shifted his gaze between the two of them. "How long have you been separated?"

"About two months now."

"And how has that been working out for the two of you?"

Peter sighed deeply, the unconscious notion telling. "Good enough. We split our time between the kids pretty well. They don't seem to have an issue with it."

"Your children." Adam titled his head to the side as he rubbed his index finger up and down his temple. "I recall during our phone conversation you mentioning you have two teenagers. Right?"

"Yes. Their names are Zach and Grace."

"How have Zach and Grace been affected by your separation?"

Peter looked to Alicia, wondering if he should continue on by himself. He knew she was hesitant to come here and knew she wasn't a person to openly discuss her feelings with strangers, but he was beginning to feel a little ridiculous doing all the talking.

"They've been handling it well. They understand we're trying to work through our problems so that we can live under one roof again."

Adam slid his pressed together index fingers up and down the bridge of his nose, his eyes focused on Alicia now. "Mrs. Florrick, is it alright if I call you Alicia?"

"Yes," she said softly.

_Ah, she can speak! _

"Okay, _Alicia._ Is that what you want as well? To eventually live in one household again?"

She shifted her eyes down to her lap and began twirling her wedding ring. "I don't know."

He watched her fiddle with the band, avoiding meeting his gaze at all cost.

"Why are you unsure? Do you not want to work through the issues in your marriage with your husband?"

He needed to know what he was dealing with here. His attempt at breaking the ice wasn't going as well as planned. Her presence weighed a significant value, but it was her conscious that would be the hardest nut to crack. It was obvious she didn't want to be here and he just wanted to know, whether it was in the form of single syllabled word or a monologue, why she chose to come.

"I don't know what I want for Peter and I."

"But, you don't want to divorce?"

She looked up at him for the first time since sitting on this couch. The D-word seemed to strike a match beneath her. Her eyes widened and feet shifted along the imported rug.

"No."

"I think sometimes you do," Peter said, laying his arm flat along the chair of the sofa. She glared at him.

"Wouldn't that make you happy?" she snarked.

"No, it actually wouldn't, Alicia. I love you and I've changed. For some reason, you can't understand that."

She bit the inside of her cheek as she repressed herself from engaging with him further. She didn't want to argue.

Adam watched their interaction silently, fascinated. "Peter, you mentioned you changed. Would you like to elaborate on that?"

He rubbed the bottom of his lip as he thought long and hard. "I guess I could start by saying I think we went wrong when I cheated. Actually, no. It was long before that. So in some ways, yes, I was a different man then."

"How so?"

"Well, I had the power of the state's attorney office and felt indestructible. I got involved in things that I shouldn't have, all because I felt I could get away with it."

Alicia closed her eyes and shook her head. Adam noticed.

"I stupidly did things that I shouldn't have, including betraying my marriage vows."

"Were you not always this type of man? A man who used his position to get what he wanted?"

He smirked as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't think I was. Apparently I was in denial."

Adam twirled the ballpoint pen between his fingers as he looked to Alicia again.

"Alicia? Do you agree with Peter's analysis of himself?

She glanced at her husband. "No."

He leaned back against the leather, trying not to smile once he saw Peter's head whip around to face her. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

"What do you mean, "no"?"

"You weren't always a man who abused the powers of his office to get what he wanted."

"But I was when I paid for a prostitute and slept with Kalinda. That's what you want to say, right?"

"I'm not pointing blame here, Peter. I simply answered the question."

He laughed in disbelief. "Tell me something. When _did _you think I changed into this man who 'abused his powers of office to get what he wanted'? I'm sure it's not the time when I basically got your brother off scot-free from facing felony charges for a drug possession."

She knew he was baiting her. Looking away from him, she inhaled a deep breath as she tried to ignore the wrath that was waiting to be unleashed, dangerously bubbling beneath the surface like a ticking bomb. Uncrossing her legs, she tucked her hair behind her ears and stared down into her lap.

Writing a few quick notes, Adam relaxed further into his chair as a satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

_Now_, they had begun therapy.


	3. Week One: Peter & Alicia--Take Two

Week One: Peter & Alicia—Take Two

"Peter, does it matter what Alicia thinks of you?"

He eyed his therapist, his gaze threatening.

Adam was quick to explain. "I'm just going off of your reaction to Alicia's observation. It seems as if her opinion of you matters greatly."

"Of course it does," he snarled. Leaning forward, he glanced at her before wringing his hands together. An act she had seen all too many times, one that signaled his temper was stewing. "She's my wife."

"So, because she's your wife, she's not supposed to see flaws in you that she doesn't agree with?" Adam thought for a moment about his prior outburst regarding her brother. "She's only supposed to remember you as that man in office who never flubbed his role, but only when it benefited her? Or your family?"

Peter rolled his eyes, averting his attention to looking around the room. A raw nerve had been struck. Adam noticed the stonewalling nonverbal action, knew that his patient was beginning to feel backed into a corner.

The clock on the wall continued it's monotonous journey as neither party spoke a word.

"I thought this was about_ us_, not me," Peter finally said, sitting back upright.

"It is about the both of you. But you each are individuals who compose," he overlay his hands to form into the shape of a ball, "an us. Sometimes, it's beneficial to first look at each of you respectively, then your relationship as a whole."

Alicia tilted her head to the side, thinking about what he said. "I think…" Both men looked at her, surprised at her non-summoned opinion. "I think it's true that Peter did enter his office as an honorable and level headed state's attorney. Along the way, perhaps he did get swayed. But for the most part, that never affected how he was at home. How he was at home as father."

Peter glanced at her, flashing a smile. Although small, both Adam and Alicia saw it.

Their therapist shifted in his chair as he decided to take a step back. Her sudden explanation sounded almost as if it was an excuse, as if it was some form of apology. Like she was protecting him. Just as the natural caretaker in her wanted to replace the bandaid back on the open wound of his bruised ego, which she was on the verge of inadvertently tearing to pieces just minutes ago.

"Did it ever affect his role as a husband?"

Her green spheres settled on his grey ones, flashing a look of death. Undeterred, Adam only raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue.

"In some ways."

Leaning back against the chair, Peter propped his elbow along the armrest as he rubbed the bottom of his lip, narrowing his eyes.

"How?" asked Adam.

She sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest, pondering. "He began to work later hours. What started as one or two nights calling home, saying that he was going to be late, turned into every night being late. I suppose I just," she shrugged, "got used to it. I was so busy taking care of the house and the kids that I got used to falling asleep alone, to waking up and finding him already gone off to work." She moved her gaze towards the massive bookshelf, avoiding Adam's piercing scrutiny. "I never thought he was doing what he did. I just assumed he was working hard, trying to provide a good life for our family."

"So, Peter's demanding position, as you thought," she nodded, "caused the two of you to," he waved a hand back and forth, "neglect the fact that you were probably growing apart?"

She readjusted herself along the seat, obviously uneasy. "I never thought about it that way, but," she looked at her husband, "yes."

"With him continuously working later and later hours, you never had an inkling that maybe it was more than work?"

"What are you doing, taking her side now?" asked Peter, exasperated. He couldn't sit through another second of this one-on-one brazen analysis of how he failed as a husband, while sitting in the same room.

Adam's eyes shot back to him, instantly greeted with the blatant annoyance carved into his tense face.

"No. I'm just trying to understand Alicia's mindset before she became aware of your allegations. I'm not here to take any one's side, Peter. I only want to help the two of you get back to having a healthy marriage."

Peter shook his head in disbelief as he loosened his tie, the temperature in the room beginning to grow unbearably hot.

Adam focused back on the woman who was opening up at the speed of a turtle. "As I was asking, Alicia, you never once suspected your husband's infidelity?"

She thought long and hard for a moment. "No."

"Uh huh." Crossing his leg, Adam readjusted the notepad on his lap as he shifted his gaze back to Peter. "Why did you seek extramarital affairs?"

Alicia's eyes fluttered as she swallowed hard. Even to this day, this was a question that she avoided asking him since their fallout just a day after the scandal was released. And even then, though he never disclosed the true reason why—she didn't buy his excuse of her not being in the mood—apart of her was scared to know the brutal truth of his answer. For once she heard it, whatever shred of love she still felt for him, she knew, would surely die.

"I don't…I…" He sat upright again. "I don't know."

Taking a breath, Adam folded his hands to rest beneath his chin as he eyed both of them, deciding to change course.

"Let's discuss your sexual relationship for a moment. How would you both describe your sexual activity back then? Peter, let's start with you."

"Uhh," he shrugged. "I guess it was healthy. We had sex maybe…twice a week, then."

Alicia's head dropped to her chest, wanting badly to escape the room.

"Do you agree, Alicia?"

"Yes." Her timid eyes were slow to meet her husband's. "About twice a week sounds right."

It was her soft voice that led those familiar iris's to look her way, those same iris's which had the inimitable ability to see into her naked soul.

"Was it satisfying for both of you?"

"What do you mean by satisfying?" asked Peter.

Adam laid out an open palm, a gesture meaning that he was being honest and candid with no secret agenda to attack his sexual performance, to strip him of what it meant to be a man.

"I mean, did you find it fulfilling. That each time you two had sex, there wasn't any form of lack. That you genuinely enjoyed being together that way."

Alicia looked to her husband, once again waiting for him to respond. Adam was onto her pattern. It was interesting to say the least. Every time he asked the pertinent questions, questions that should eventually lead her to divulge of her feelings, she looked to Peter first. It seemed she was basing her responses off of his answers. As if she was mindlessly following his lead, like she didn't know her own voice without his. He wondered if this behavior was reminiscent of the rhythm in their marriage—Peter leading the way while she sulked behind in his shadow like a puppet.

"Then I would say, yes. I was satisfied. Very much so," said Peter.

"Alicia, how about you?"

She exhaled a slow and shaky breath. "Yes, I was satisfied."

Adam's gaze narrowed, choosing to take the leap of being so bold and digging deeper with her, curious as to how she would respond on her own.

"Although you were satisfied with the actual lovemaking, Alicia, did you feel twice a week was enough? Or…did you feel," he shook his head, "No. Did you _want_, to have sex with your husband more often?"

The warmth washed across her cheeks as she felt Peter's eyes burning a hole into her. She refused to look his way and chose to stare down into her lap.

"Yes," she mumbled.

Adam dipped his head, trying to match her lowered gaze as Peter continued to stare at his wife in shock from her confession.

"Are you uncomfortable discussing this, Alicia?"

She inhaled a breath as she slowly lifted her head and straightened her back. "It's not everyday that I discuss with a therapist my sexual wants and how often my husband and I had sex, so yes, I'm a little uncomfortable."

Peter snickered, knowing their doctor was unaware of the fire he just lit.

Adam nodded in agreement, picking up on the slight defensiveness in her tone. "As to be expected. I want to…push you out of that comfort zone you've known for so long so that we can get to the unfeigned heart of the matter." He flashed her a reassuring smile before quickly jotting down a note. "So, back to what you said. You_ did_ want to have sex with Peter more than you were. You never told him that?"

"Once."

Peter looked at her as if she had grown a second head. "When?" he nearly barked, interjecting Adam.

"When I called you at work, on the morning of your forty-eighth birthday." She drew in a deep breath, still remembering the conversation as if it happened yesterday. "I told you I missed you," her voice dropped to a whisper, "that I wanted you, that I wanted us to get back to how we used to be."

He was completely clueless. "Do you mean when we spoke in the hotel that night? Because that," he smirked, "_that_ was a night I remember very clearly."

"You stayed in a hotel on the night of your birthday?" Adam asked.

"Oh yeah. In a grand deluxe suite at the Trump," Peter said smugly, causing Alicia to roll her eyes. "That was a night I would say our sex life definitely increased to almost everyday."

Adam smiled. "Would you care to share more about this night?"

"Honey?" Peter said, wiggling his brows, a wide grin possessing his mouth.

"No, why don't you go ahead."

He overlooked the sarcastic expression on her face and matching tone of her voice as he lolled his head back, reflecting on that day.

"As she said, she called me that morning at work. I thought her telling me that she missed me and wanted me, was some sort of…phone sex prelude for that night." He rubbed the bottom of his chin. "I knew we would have sex that night, we always did on the other's birthday. So I didn't read more into it.

"Long story short, I came home, we celebrated with our kids then she surprised me by telling me my mother would watch our children while we spent the night at the Trump, in honor of my birthday. That night, she played up a couple of my fantasies and we had," he looked at her, his eyes low and teasing, "a night I'll never forget."

Alicia looked away from his gaze, remembering it just as vividly as he did. She felt her neck flush with heat.

"But of course, after we had our fun, we talked about how we wanted the spark back…the sex…or just that intimacy between us back."

"And did you get it back?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, for awhile."

"No, we didn't," countered Alicia.

Peter looked at her, surprised. "What do you mean? I started coming home from work early and you were practically waiting for me as soon as I walked through the door, ready and willing."

She overlooked his candor of hinting about the wanton side of her she carefully kept repressed.

"That lasted for about a week, and then you went back to your old ways."

"Which was?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Which was going to your prostitute!"

He angled his body to face her in a way that signaled he was prepared for the customary battle while Adam continued to observe their interaction.

"You act as if I chose to go to her."

Her mouth fell open, nearly hitting the floor. Had he always been this stupid?

"I'm sure no one unzipped your pants and forced you to have sex with her, Peter." She looked at him like a dog waiting for a bone.

He laid out his hands on the space between them as if he was giving her a peace offering. An offering to not push that button when their emotions weren't properly equipped to handle the consequences.

"I didn't just make the conscious choice overnight to hire a call girl."

"Oh no? Was it before or after you had sex with me did your conscience decide it wasn't enough, so you sought her out."

He leaned his head back, exhaling slowly. "Neither, Alicia. By the time I slept with Amber—"

"Why do you call her by her first name? Huh? Why is that, Peter?"

He closed his eyes and breathed, trying to control the raging chord of his anger. "By the time I slept with, _her_," he continued, slower this time, "you and I…we were, in a place. We weren't like we used to be."

Her eyes almost bulged from their sockets as she stared at him in disbelief. The memory replaying in her mind so fresh and painful that she felt her heart had broken into it's millionth piece.

"So your wife_,_ _grieving,_ was all the ammunition you needed to go out and bang," her head retreated back as disgust dripped from her voice, "_a hooker_?!"

Adam soaked up this newly blurted information like a sponge.

Peter sucked his teeth as he shook his head. "You know damn well that isn't true. You shut me out."

"How could I shut you out when you were never there? _Especially_ then!"

She was practically shouting now. Adam continued to watch their heated exchange, taking notes, his focus mostly on Alicia, who was emerging from her shell right before his very eyes.

Peter was on the brink of exploding. "Don't give me that. You know I tried."

"And how did you try, Peter? By coming home at midnight, then climbing into bed with me after you left, _Amber_?!" She said her name with such revulsion that both Peter _and_ Adam felt their skin crawl. "Or was it Kalinda?"

"I tried, Alicia. You shut me out," he said tiredly.

"Probably because I smelled her on you! But you know what? I was too in love with you to believe you would _ever _do that to me."

She fought back a tsunami of tears as she turned from him and rested her head within the palm of her hand, trying to control her heavy breathing. The pain threatened to wrack her body as her emotions continued the war of remaining in check.

Adam shifted within his seat and chose to simply observe them. What just transpired was certainly a revealing moment. Both of his patient's were beside themselves with anger that they couldn't bear to look at the other.

Clearing his throat, he ogled them for a minute more, checking to ensure they were done throwing verbal blows. Met with dejected and pensive demeanors, his Irish brogue simmered the tempestuous silence.

"What did you mean by what you said, Alicia?" he cautiously asked. "That your grieving gave Peter the ammunition to bang a hooker, especially then." He slouched further in the chair as he hovered his folded hands beneath he bridge of his nose. "Why were you grieving?"

She was saved from responding, when at that moment, did her cell phone ring.

Swiping her tears, she reached down and dug into her purse, glancing at the caller ID, then at her husband. A well-versed and knowing look passed between them. Both knew who it was without her even having to say it. He shook his head as his eyes grew hard, watching her quickly shoulder her purse.

"That's right. Go to _work_. Run to Will," sneered Peter. "When you can't stand to realize you probably should have divorced me when you had the courage to, your _boss _is always there waiting with open arms, isn't he?"

"Who's Will?" Adam innocently asked.

Ignoring them both, she leaped from the couch and marched towards the door, refusing to look Peter's way.

"Alicia, please don't go," said Adam as he rose from his chair, hoping to stop her.

Gripping the door knob, she didn't look at their therapist, only down at the menacing gaze of her husband.

"Go to hell, Peter," she all but spat in his face.

And with that, she left the room, the door slamming in her retreat.

Folding his hands together, Peter rested them behind his head as he laughed in disbelief. If this was how their first session went, he wasn't sure they would be able to handle the ones that followed.

Sticking a hand into his pocket, Adam removed his glasses and scratched his forehead as he began to pace in circles.

"Well, I guess next time, we can talk more about this Will."

"Good luck with that, Dr. Lewis." Smirking, Peter closed his eyes, wondering for the first time if it was all a mistake.

* * *

_**A/N: Sorry that this chap is a bit lengthy, but I hope I'm not boring you yet :)**_


	4. Week Two: Peter & Alicia

_**A/N**: Alicia and Will have not slept together in this. Also, this session is somewhat of a very long one, hence I broke it up for you guys. Hope you enjoy! ;)_

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Week Two: Peter & Alicia

Alicia walked into the fiftieth-floor sprawling corner office she had convinced herself she would never visit again. The last time she was here stripped her in ways she didn't intend, and she had no plans on making herself subject to that emotional exploitation again. Once was enough. She didn't like not being in control, and didn't appreciate the poignant way in which she and Peter didn't hesitate to hit each other where it hurt the most. Positive that the decision had been drilled into her mind to never return, needless to say, she was beyond perplexed that she was here, committing to another session. For reasons that she could not explain, she now found herself closing the door to the room which held the power to break down every wall she had carefully built. It was her prerogative to keep an open mind for this session and to calm her nerves, which signaled to her brain to flee once she noticed she was the first to arrive, much to her dismay.

"Alicia." Adam's eyes widened once they rested on her dubious posture. "It's nice to see you again. You're a little early." Rising from his desk, he removed his glasses and treaded down the short steps.

Smiling faintly at his gleeful face, she walked towards the couch.

"I know. A hearing ended early. I decided to come on here."

Sitting on the sofa in the same spot she sat last, ensuring to tuck herself deep into that same plush cushion as if she was attempting to hide, she distractedly began digging for her phone in her purse.

Adam slipped his hands into his pockets as he watched her self-made occupied form, still completely stunned that she had returned. He was even more shocked that she was the first to get here. Their last explosive session led him to be under the impression they would require this one to be rescheduled, with her choosing to discontinue. He was nothing short of astonished when Peter called earlier this morning to say they both planned to be in attendance.

Staring at the screen of her phone, she quickly speed dialed her husband. Bringing the phone to her ear, she glanced at Adam briefly before closing her eyes and sighing once she got his voicemail.

"I thought Peter would beat me here. He phoned me at work this morning to remind me of the appointment."

"Did you have other plans?" he asked.

Resting the phone in her lap, she tucked her hair behind her ears and crossed her legs.

"No. He wanted to make sure I was coming back."

"Ahh." Adam nodded knowingly as he gripped the armrests and eased himself down in the chair across from her. "Your last session did end on a highly charged note."

She avoided his gaze as she picked up her phone and tried calling him again.

Adam surveilled her scatty actions. She was terribly anxious and agitated to be sitting here alone in the room with him. The fear of of them possibly having a short one-on-one session was surely on the forefront of her mind. He could tell. From the moment she walked into the room and saw it was just him here, her posture changed. Her once relaxed slender shoulders beneath her flattering dress, and delicate chin that was held high as the arch of her spine straightened, exuding that her confidence had been restored and she was ready for this soul searching journey, reverted in a heart beat. Once she became aware it would only be the two of them until Peter arrived, her shoulders slumped and head dropped, revealing that weak and vulnerable woman that he met for the first time last week.

Regardless that she was early—even though it wasn't a joint agreement—she expected her other-half to be here. It became partially clear to Adam why she had not divorced her husband. She couldn't see herself _without_ him. She didn't know herself _without_ him. Yet. If Peter didn't show within the next minute, he was persuaded to believe—from her demeanor—that she would have an anxiety attack.

"Still no answer?" he asked, watching as she tried for the third time.

"No," she said, resorting to sending him a text message.

Readjusting himself atop the cushion, he hooked his thumb under his chin as his index finger rubbed his upper lip, continuing to study her.

"Alicia, I'm not going to psychoanalyze you without your husband here," he joked.

She looked up at him with all seriousness. "Excuse me?"

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He had to be extremely careful with his wording. For she might misinterpret his words and dash from the room like she had the last time. This woman had lost her sense of humor and would take everything he said as a three-dimensional interpretation of how she had failed and was still fighting to overcome the difficult struggle that was her life.

He spoke softly, "You just seem very on edge being here alone, without Peter."

She instantly became defensive. "I'm not on edge. The sooner we start, the better. I have to be back in court in two hours, which I told him earlier. I just need him to get here on time."

Adam glanced at the clock. "Well, we have another ten minutes before your scheduled appointment is to begin. I'm sure he'll be here right on time."

His words did nothing to reassure her. About to try calling her missing spouse again, the distress seeped from her body as she slightly relaxed once her eyes rested on her husband.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, Dr. Lewis," said Peter, his large frame filling the doorway before he crossed the threshold and closed the door. "There was an accident on the expressway."

Adam smiled in acknowledgment. "You're not late. Actually, you're a few minutes early as well."

"Oh."

Walking towards the couch, Peter was amazed to find his wife already here. After their brief, but very tense, one-minute phone call this morning, he was certain she wouldn't make it today. Telling her that he didn't want to waste his time to show up, only for her not to, or for her to storm out again, weren't the best of words to convince her to come back, he knew. But her careless attitude both irritated and provoked him.

"I tried calling you three times," she said without looking up from her phone.

"I know. I didn't see your calls until I was in the elevator on my way up here." He sat on the other side of the sofa, in the same spot he sat the last time as well, placing that galaxy distance between them once again. "What's the matter?" he asked, watching her frantically press buttons on her cell.

Peter untucked the edge of his blazer from beneath his thigh as he silenced his own cell phone and settled comfortably on the couch.

"Your daughter. She just texted me saying she was going to a jamboree with Shannon and a couple of other kids after she's done with her homework."

"She said what?"

Nodding, Alicia held up a finger, signaling for him to give her a moment when she heard their child pick up on the other end.

"Grace, you are not going somewhere with Shannon that we haven't discussed…because I said so…_No_! Dad is picking you and your brother up from home, then you're going to his place for the weekend…Gra—"

Alicia slowly pulled the phone from her ear, staring at it in disbelief. "She hung up on me," she whispered.

Adam quietly watched them while dissecting their minuscule interaction. They both seemed flustered and a little tense today.

"Perhaps we should reschedule when it's a better time?" he suggested.

Alicia hit redial, trying to call her again, her temper flaring when she didn't answer.

"No. We're keeping the slot," said Peter. "But I'll be right back. I'm going to step outside and call her."

He rose from the couch, quickly bringing his own phone to his ear as he opened the door but didn't close it. The two of them remained in silence in the room as they listened to him speak in a low hushed tone, but still able to detect the controlled sternness.

"Is he usually the disciplinarian?" Adam asked.

"No." Silencing her cell, she slipped it back into her purse and looked back at him. "I would say we share that role equally."

He slowly nodded. "I know that Peter mentioned your children have accepted your separation quite well, and I am also aware that they live with you primarily. But are there any changes you've noticed in their behavior since your separation?"

She thought for a moment. "No. They still act the same, nothing out of the ordinary."

"Okay," Adam and Alicia peered up at Peter striding back towards the couch, "she's not going. I told her if she tries anything, she'll be on punishment for one month."

Settling back on the couch, he turned off his device and slipped it into his breast pocket.

Adam stared at them, wondering how to begin the session with his newest discovery. Although they seemed to no longer be partners in their marriage, there was one thing that became clear to him. They were definitely a united front when it came to their children.

"Peter, while you were on the phone, I asked Alicia if she had noticed any change in your children since the separation. I understand they are splitting their time between the two of you. Do you feel that's been difficult for either Zach or Grace? That maybe they're behaving uncharacteristically because of this sudden change?"

He reclined into the cushion and laid an arm on the back of the chair. "No, they're not misbehaving, but I think it might be a little challenging for them. Well," he took a second to gather his thoughts, "Zach not so much, but I think Grace is struggling with it."

Alicia looked at him, flabbergasted. "Really? How?"

He rocked his head from side-to-side, thinking of the various indications. "Sometimes she'll talk to me about how she doesn't understand marriages and adults, about how she doesn't necessarily agree with our arrangement but that she hope and prays we work it out."

Alicia mouthed a silent 'Oh' before resting her elbow on the arm of the chair and propping her head within the palm of her hand. This was a tidbit of new information for her, a crumb that should not have rubbed her wrong, but did. When she informed the kids she and Peter planned to enlist in counseling, they had a very nonchalant conduct about it. Furthermore, they never asked her anything more regarding the matter. But Grace, their sensitive and relentlessly curious daughter, was openly talking with him about it?

"That's a natural response for teenagers who have been accustomed to seeing their parents' relationship in only one fashion. And in your situation, when the father has rocked the boat, daughter's often find it more difficult to cope with," said Adam.

Peter thought about what he said for a moment. "So, are you saying you think my daughter blames me for the current state of our marriage?"

Adam laughed nervously, wondering how he would get his patient to stop feeling as if he had a permanent target on his back.

"No, Peter. Not at all."

He rested his folded hands at his waist as he took a deep breath, thinking of how to clarify the explanation on the tip of his tongue.

"I'm simply expounding that young girls, especially teenage girls, are at the point in life where they will begin to experience their own personal relationships. Naturally, they often observe their parents relationship for guidance on how they should tackle these situations, and more often than not, their conscious and unconscious opinion of their fathers heavily influence their chosen companion. It's what we marriage psychologists refer to as the Imago Theory."

Peter and Alicia's ears peaked and curiosity salivated as they patiently waited for the forthcoming exegesis.

Adam continued, "Offspring normally have a tendency to subconsciously involve themselves romantically with individuals who indirectly matches the composite of their parents, while their unconscious enters this new relationship with the sole purpose to heal from repressed emotional desolation. Whether or not your daughter's thoughts of you will shadow who she dates, I can't say. But I am not saying you are to blame for her thoughts or choices, and neither should you feel blame."

Both parents greedily digested this food for thought.

Alicia glanced to Peter, whom still seemed to be intellectually flummoxed from Adam's description. Of course their children's emotional well-being was always a priority when making decisions about their marriage, but perhaps they didn't realize just how much their actions were affecting them.

"Do you think we made a mistake by legally separating?" she asked Peter.

He slowly lolled his head in her direction. "_You_ wanted a legal separation from me, remember?"

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Peter, let's not point fingers in each other's faces today, alright? I'm sure Dr. Lewis got enough of that last time."

Adam smiled as he rose from his seat. "Oh, by all means. Don't hold back on my account." Greeted with stony faces, he became aware that this couple had nearly lost all of their light heartedness. "Uh, I'm just going to grab my notepad then we can continue."

Watching him go to his desk, Peter took advantage of this short recess and ogled her. He _really_ looked at her for the first time since they had begun the session.

She wore a figure-hugging, black, quarter-sleeved pencil dress today, one that had a very low-cut square neckline, teasing at a hint of cleavage and showed off her swan-like creamy neck. He was sure when she rose from the couch, he would get a better view of just how perfectly the dress fit her body. When she flipped her hair over her shoulder, allowing him an unshielded peek, his eyes narrowed, not remembering her ever wear something like this to work before.

"I'm surprised you got here before me."

She didn't look at him, but continued to stare straight ahead, watching as Adam resumed his seated position.

"Yep. A hearing ended early," she stated matter-of-factly.

"And Will let you come here to be with me?"

He knew it was immature and uncalled for, but he couldn't help it. Seeing her dressed like this, their curt phone call this morning after not speaking since the last time they were here, and then how she stormed out during their last session, fueled the jealousy to roll off the tip of his tongue like ice-cream melting down a cone on a hot summer day.

Balling her fists together, she closed her eyes and spoke through clenched teeth. "Oh, _do not_ start with that today, Peter. Do not!"

Eyeing them over the bridge of his glasses, Adam flipped open his leather bound notepad. When the Florrick's argued, their verbal strikes had the ability to destroy and rebuild their foundation at the same time. They reminded him of a saying his wife often coined: as cold as fire and as hot as ice. There was rarely a smoldering medium during their heated disputes.

"Alicia," Adam began, "Although it's quite clear to me you do not want to discuss, _Will_, I would like to understand why this person has such an impact over the current state of your marriage. Especially given how our last meeting ended."

She looked at him, displaying an expression of incredulity, not believing he really was going to push her there. Her eyes pleaded no.

"Who's Will?" he asked, regardless of her obvious reluctance.

She nervously licked her lips and blinked rapidly. "My boss."

Adam glanced to Peter, who was staring at his wife like a shark who had smelled blood. Whatever responses came from her mouth, the moment she said something he didn't agree with, he was confident that the short-tempered man would resemble a pit-bull breaking free from a metal chain.

"Given the outburst from Peter last time, I am pressed to think that the relationship you have with Will is more than professional. Is that not true?"

She glared at her husband whom matched her gaze with a look of vehemence.

"No. We know each other from college and had…a thing. But that was it."

"Can you explain this _thing_?


	5. Week Two: Peter & Alicia--Part ll

Week Two: Peter & Alicia—Part ll

"Can you explain this _thing?__"_

Folding her arms across her chest, she tried to ignore the nervous jitters in her stomach as she met the questioning gaze of her therapist, then darted her eyes to his expansive bookshelf, before settling on him again.

"We dated briefly. It wasn't serious. It was very innocent. We were just…" She shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips. "Having fun. Then I met Peter and the rest is history."

Adam nodded as he eyed her briefly, then focused back on completing his note.

"So, this thing that you had, has no influence over the current nature of your working relationship?"

"No."

"How about your marriage?"

She bit her lower lip as she felt her abdomen swirl into a storm of trepidation. "No. It does not. Peter's jealousy is making it an issue, making it into something more than it is."

That was all he needed to hear. He nearly jumped from the couch as he swiveled to face her, the force of his movement slightly rocking the legs of the sofa.

"Oh, that's right, my jealousy is why my wife's boss is leaving her voicemails, _pouring _out his heart."

She looked at him so fast Adam thought she may have caused a sprain in her neck.

"You listened to my voicemails?" Her eyes blinked in disbelief as her mouth hang open in shock. "When?!"

Her failure to deny his accusation only encouraged his jealous rage.

"When you left it in your purse during your firm's gala a few month's ago."

He casually stated the information like he had accidentally mixed the coloreds with the whites while doing laundry.

Her eyes widened. "How dare you!"

Peter rolled his eyes and removed his arm from the back of the chair. "Don't worry. I didn't listen to him pour out his heart to you, but I heard enough."

"I can't believe you," she shook her head, utterly disbelieved. "I honestly can't believe you."

"And I can't believe that he could tell you to jump and I'm positive you won't hesitate to ask how high."

Her nostrils flared as she continued to shake her head. "You're being childish."

"And you're being in denial. You want your boss!"

She inhaled deeply and stared into the ceiling. They wouldn't have this argument again. No. That well had run dry. The problem sat here, on this couch.

"Peter, please," she stated calmer than expected. "Don't do this right now."

He eyed her in confusion, her own calm deportment causing Adam to do a double take. When the finger was pointed at her husband, she didn't refrain from meeting him blow for blow, intent on having the last and winning punch. But when it was on her, she recoiled and instantly diffused the situation.

Taking advantage of this break, Adam poised his pen to the elegantly lined paper and directed his attention on her.

"Alicia, does Peter's anger unsettle you?"

Whipping her hair back with the flick of her head, she tilted her head to the side as her jaw tensed. "Yes. When he gets like this, it's hard to talk to him."

Peter leaned forward and ran a hand over his mouth. "No, what you mean is when I point out a flaw in you, you can't handle it. You can't accept that you might be just as bad as I am."

Adam raised his eyebrows, impressed with the unforeseen observation. "That's an interesting choice of words, Peter. Are you comparing your infidelities to your suspicions that Alicia has romantic feelings for her boss?"

"I know she does," he growled, eyeing her.

Unfolding her hands, she inhaled deeply and looked at him. She uncrossed her legs and leaned into the space between them, showing that she was prepared to meet his jealousy head on.

"Why do you think that, Peter? Why are you _so_ jealous that another man may or may not want me?" He arched his brow at her, the bold choice of words catching him off guard. "Yes," she answered the question she knew he was thinking, "let's be completely honest. That's what this is truly about."

"No. This is about you—"

"No, it's about you! And you thinking that I would continue to be your doormat even after you went out and had sex with whomever you pleased."

"I don't think of you as a doormat, Alicia." He sighed, meeting her defiant eyes. "Yes, I've betrayed you. Yes, I've broken the ultimate vow. I'll admit that gladly. And I may be undeserving to have the gall to feel this way, but I do. You're still my wife. Perhaps it's the innate nature of being a man, of the simple notion that you are mine. But the fact is, as much as you probably hate to admit it…you are mine. I don't want to share you."

For a potted second, she almost softened at his heart felt confession, no matter how jaded it sounded in her ears. But she refused to back down so easily.

Slight veins bulged from her slender neck as she narrowed her eyes on him.

"I'm not your property, Peter. I'm not up for rent to whomever I feel should occupy _your _premises at a particular time."

Passing a hand over his face, Peter held his head within his hands as he chose not to respond.

Adam processed both their responses, specifically Peter's. It sounded like his form of the ultimate apology, and it didn't phase Alicia in the slightest.

"Peter, is what Alicia said true of how you feel? That your jealousy stems from a place of what-if, of your fears that another might desire her and she may possibly feel the same?"

Leaning up, he reclined slowly back against the chair and folded his arms across his chest. He shifted his attention to his wife, his gaze roaming over her outfit for a second time before looking at Adam.

"Yes," he regretfully admitted. He tucked and untucked his lips, then combed a hand through his hair. "I know I probably have no right to feel that way, but I do. I always have about Alicia. She is _my_ girl. Always will be."

Adam observed his patient as he jogged the recesses of his theoried psychological trained brain, wondering which way to hit him next. Peter Florrick was a very layered man. Even more so than his wife. And if he wasn't careful, he could very well push the wrong button that would end this treatment for good.

"Is it also your fear that Alicia will do what you did to her, with Will?"

His eyes slowly rose to meet Adam's, looking at him as if he had committed the deadliest sin by asking that question. "I don't know." He looked to his wife once again. "Would you do it?"

Lightly laughing, she regarded him in an astounded expression. "What do you want to hear me say, Peter? Yes?!"

"I feel like that's what you want me to say."

She leaned her head to the side, her brows bunched in confusion. "What?"

Licking his lips, his eyes zoned in on her dress once again, not able to resist commenting this time. "You wore that to work?"

She glanced down at her attire, having not a clue where he was going with this.

"Wha—what are you—" She spread her hands in an air of puzzlement. "What?!"

"Your dress." His disapproving orbs slowly traveled over her body. She felt an icy rawness slither down her spine from his intense and burning microscopic exploration. "It's not one of your usual outfits that you wear to work."

Alicia had had enough of this. She wasn't going to waste another hour of feeding his unchecked jealousy.

"Peter, if you're going to make this session about your insecurity over Will, then I suggest we quit wasting Dr. Lewis's time."

"Why? So you can run back to work and let him get a better view of what you wore for him?"

"Stop it," she warned.

He laughed sadistically, the sound resembling an evil scientist from a cartoon she recalled Zach loved watching as a toddler.

"You know what I think?"

Adam and Alicia looked to him like college students on their first day of classes, wide-eyed and alert, desperately waiting to hear what he had to say.

"I think you want me to give you permission to sleep with him. To give you a reason to make us even by permitting you to sleep with the man that signs your paychecks."

She faced him and outstretched her arms, showing him that she had nothing left to give to this fight. It was over. She was throwing in the towel.

"I. Do not. Want. Will. I don't want to sleep with him or anyone else. I don't want _any _reason to make this marriage worse than it is. I'm here for us. That's it."

He jeered, "Are you sure about that?"

She couldn't believe him. Resting her head in her hand, she breathed deeply, trying to find the patience to continue on and not leave again. Their contest to see who could hurt the other more was wearing her thin. It felt as if he was holding a gun to her head and was waiting for the perfect moment that she would be pushed into that place which would allow him to retract the trigger and fire, no doubt missing.

"Stop it." Her rounded-almond eyes squinted at him in fury. "Now."

"Or what?" he taunted. "You'll do it?"

She couldn't hold back anymore. "Yes, Peter! YES! After I leave here, I'm going to go back to the office and have sex with Will, _in_ this dress!"

He stared long and hard at her, his gaze unwavering as her words echoed in his ears like a bad song.

Adam cleared his throat. He needed to re-gain control. These two were quickly headed down a path of self-destruction.

"Peter."

He didn't look at him, only kept his focus on Alicia, not believing what she just said. His fiery stare sent a shiver down her backbone. She had taken his bait, and bit back. Hard. He couldn't swallow the pill that he had been asking for during the past ten minutes. The rage pumped through him violently, making him want to punch a wall repeatedly, to unleash the internal boiling fury and tear this room apart as if he was Rambo.

"Peter, can you look at me?" Adam repeated. He knew he had officially fallen off the deep end and it would be a challenge to reel him back in.

Reluctantly doing as asked, his low eyes finally met Adam's.

"Tell me what you're feeling," he coached.

Slouching into the seat, Peter smoothed a hand down his neck. "I'm angry as hell."

"Why? Why do you feel so angry?"

Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Because," he paused, "because of what she said. I know, she probably didn't mean it. But it pissed me off."

Adam massaged his temples as he swiftly thought of how to tackle this situation without infuriating him more. "Why do you think Alicia retaliated in that way? Why did she respond in that manner, knowing it would push you over the edge?"

He shrugged as he kneaded the back of his neck. "I don't know."

Adam rubbed his lower lip in a back and forth motion as he carefully thought out his words.

"Do you not realize what just happened? What you unintentionally just did?"

Peter looked at him, wholly clueless.

"Peter, your…jealousy, dominated the disagreement between the two of you and backed Alicia into a corner, forcing her to respond in a way that she repeatedly told you she doesn't feel, but said what you wanted to hear just to pacify you." Adam straightened in his chair as he let his words sink in and prepared himself for what he was sure was going to be round two of Peter's wrath. "Has your jealousy always been quick to get out of control?"

Again, he chose not to answer, feeling again like he did on their last session when Adam focused on his affairs.

"If you feel as if I'm singling you out again, I'm not. Peter, I just want to shed some light on your uncontrolled, yet natural spousal jealousy, so that we can all understand how it's impacting your relationship with Alicia."

He may not have had anything to say, but his wife did, surprising her therapist again with how rapidly she came to his defense. When he was down, she always sought to pick him back up, no matter how many times that he had literally just knocked her to the ground. Was it a sense of loyalty or was it just that natural caretaker in her again?

"Peter's always been…possessive of me." She glanced at him, his hurt but still angered eyes gripped her heart, allowing her to feel that depth of love which threatened to be the catalyst of their obliteration. "Initially, when we were young and dating, I naively found it cute. That he loved me so much he only wanted me to himself."

"I still do," he said lowly.

She closed her mouth at his words, not wanting them to affect her, but they did. She would never tell him, but when he cheated, apart of her confidence died. That feeling of being the sexiest woman in his eyes, of being attractive, of feeling wanted…of _being_ wanted, diminished. When she looked in the mirror, she thought her body was the reason why he sought someone younger and prettier. Someone who's physique was still tight and intact, not having suffered from the experience of bearing children. But when she saw Will look at her that way the first time, the way that Peter used to when they were young and drunk on love, she couldn't stop herself from manipulating words and situations just to get that boost back to her self-confidence again. To reestablish the assurance of her womanhood.

And to hear her husband confess his desire now, a mixture of emotions soared through her as she badly wanted to take his confession to heart, but wouldn't let her guard down.

Adam continued to let them both calm down for a moment as he gathered his notes. Peter's jealousy and rage was something more fitted for a one-on-one session, which he hoped to introduce at some point and get these two to adhere to. They obviously needed it. They had deeper issues than either were willing to admit.

"Peter," he started, "how do you feel now? Are you alright?"

He hesitantly lifted his head. "I'm fine…just," he closed his eyes, "just calming down."

"That's good. At least you can acknowledge when you need to take a step back and breathe." Adam focused back on Alicia. "Let's switch gears and discuss a subject matter that you mentioned last session as well, Alicia."

Her breath had caught in her throat. The unwarranted attention was back on her. She felt like a student whom had been called into the principal's office.

"You mentioned that your grieving gave Peter the ammunition to cheat. Can you explain what you meant by that?"

Her eyes fluttered as she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her lungs felt as if blocks of cement were weighing them down as tears flooded her eyes. She briefly looked up into the ceiling, and blinked rapidly, pressing her fingers on her lips to try to silence the sobs that wanted to break free.

"I can't," she gasped.

Peter's eyes softened as he reached across the couch and for her hand, grasping it tightly. She didn't pull away. He knew what she was feeling and knew that she had lost all of her strong will to suffer through another emotional analysis today at his simple inquiry.

"Dr. Lewis," his tone was serious, but gentle, "If you don't mind…um, can we discuss this once we're further along in treatment?"

Adam watched Alicia fight the urge not to break down. She shielded her head with her hand as she stared down into her lap, breathing deeply, all the while clasping Peter's hand steadfastly.

Reaching for the box of tissues on the glassed coffee table, he handed it to her. "Of course. That's fine."

Taking the box, her tinted red eyes met his. "Thank you," she hoarsely whispered.

Adam slumped back against his chair, completely stumped. Obviously, whatever it was, they needed to discuss. Not once they were further along, but now. This issue, that had such an emotional hold on her, was clearly a pivotal reason as to why their marriage was in the state that it was in. Peter's cheating was a minor piece of their complicated puzzle.

"Are you alright?" Adam asked her after a moment, after her breathing had slowed and sniffles ceased.

"Yes," she dabbed her eyes.

"Do you feel—do you either of you feel well enough to continue on with therapy today?"

Their emotions clearly had not returned to normal from their first session, nor from the last thirty minutes of skyrocketing to a place they still weren't prepared to handle.

Staring at his quiet wife, that natural feeling to protect her rose as Peter spoke up for them. "Actually, I don't think so." He knew she couldn't handle anymore today. "Would it be a problem if we ended early?"

"No. I would never want to keep you here when you both become so upset that you are unable to cooperate with the treatment." He quickly jotted down a note. "But before I let you go, I would like to ask that you do the first of many exercises we'll try during our time together."

Peter listened intently while Alicia continued to dab at her eyes.

"Considering all that has been shared thus far, I would like each of you to think about one goal and one issue that you want us to work through and towards, to get your marriage back into a harmonious state. Write those down, and bring them next time so we can discuss."

Peter nodded as he rose from the couch. "Will do."

Alicia followed his lead as she balled the tissue into her hands and grabbed her purse, clasping Peter's outstretched hand, and stood. She didn't pull away when he pulled her against his side and rested his hand on her lower back, while guiding them towards the door. In fact, she found it comforting.

Adam saw the small gesture, his mind spinning as he interpreted their once again united front.

"Thank you, Dr. Lewis. See you next week," said Peter.

"Take care."

He watched them disappear from his line of sight with their hands joined, not resembling a couple that knew how to rip the other to shreds and deal lethal blows as they did moments ago, which normally, would push some to divorce. No. Mr. and Mrs. Florrick were certainly each other's achilles heel's. And Adam began to understand that he had only been afforded the teeniest glimpse into this truly fascinating marriage.


	6. A Crumb

_**AN**: Going forward, as this story progresses, I'll be showing their lives outside of treatment, in addition to joint and individual therapy sessions. Just giving a heads-up to anyone who may be confused by the subtle change and to also provide everyone with a more full-circled viewpoint on how exploring the nuts and bolts of their marriage not only affects them while in sessions, but also in their day-to-day lives. So, again, I hope I don't confuse anyone with the shifts, but that it flows and allows you all to appreciate the bigger, end picture :)_

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_Dedicating this chap to my Kokes (**Kikidevil17**). I hope you're happy darn it! :)_

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A Crumb

"Mommmm! Dad's here!"

Closing the door, Peter held a finger to his ear as he opened and closed his mouth, amazed that he still had the ability to hear from the loud voice of his daughter. Even though she was now much older, she still yet possessed those infamous pair of lungs she blessed everyone with in the delivery room the first moment she entered the world via her mother's womb.

"How's my baby girl?" he asked, hugging her to his side.

Grace beamed up at him as she linked her arm around his waist. "Good. Though, this weekend, I need you to help me with my science project."

"Volcano again?"

They casually walked towards the kitchen.

"No. We need to think of something better. I want to have the best one in the class."

Grinning, he held her closer and enjoyed this small moment, thinking of how their children was the perfect combination of he and Alicia. He knew she had probably gotten her competitive nature from them both.

"Alright. We'll brainstorm on Friday, then knockout it out on Saturday."

"Cool. Because Zach said he wouldn't help."

"Oh, he will." His tone left no opening for a debate. "Where is your Mom and brother?" he asked once they slowed to a stop in the kitchen.

"Mom's in the dining room working and Zach's in his room studying for a chemistry test tomorrow."

Tiptoeing towards the entry way, she peeked around the corner at Alicia, whose head was buried deep in paperwork, oblivious to them just feet away.

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asked, standing in front of him again, her arms folded across her chest in a manner that warned if he planned to say no, he better have a damned good excuse as to why.

Peter gazed down into her hopeful brown eyes, hating to break her heart.

"Not tonight. But maybe we can all have dinner at our favorite Italian place one night this week, alright?"

"Promise?"

He leaned down and planted a kiss to her forehead. "I promise."

Just as Grace had done, he too looked around the corner at Alicia, whom was still heavily focused on her work. If there was one thing he could attest to about his wife, it was that she had always been a dedicated and thorough lawyer. She never tackled any case half-ass.

"Did you tell Mom you were sorry for hanging up on her earlier?"

She avoided his gaze and kicked her sock covered feet against his polished dress shoes. "Yes. I won't do it again."

"See that you don't," he said sternly. She nodded eagerly. "Why don't you go to your room and give your Mom and I a minute alone, alright?"

Nodding, she hugged him tightly before scampering off to her room.

Removing his black pea coat, he draped it along the back of a barstool at the island as he pivoted to his right, instantly greeted with an unobstructed view of his causally dressed wife—in a cardigan and yoga pants—seated at the dining table. He ingested the sight, memories floating through his mind of when she was just a law student, and was preparing for a mock trial on the night before. She would find the most secluded area of the library, pick a table and disguise it under stacks of books and papers, intent on cramming as much information as possible into her head. The worst part? He usually pulled these all nighters with her. The thought made him smile sadly, especially as he observed the déjà vu scene before him—a mass of papers nearly covered every wooden square inch of the table while she studiously sat with a glass of wine in one hand and a yellow highlighter in the other, marking along a document.

_Where did we go wrong?_

"New case?" he asked knowingly.

Swallowing a mouthful of wine, she glanced up at him and offered a welcoming smile. She had heard Grace announce his arrival a few minutes ago but quickly lost herself back in the pile of research.

"Yep. The deposition is tomorrow."

"Ouch." He pulled out a chair and sat.

Depositing her goblet on the table, she neatly stacked the papers and pushed them to the side before giving him her undivided attention.

"Would you like a glass?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm fine. So, what's up?"

Leaning back in the chair, she folded her arms across her chest, and inhaled a deep breath. "Your mother." He arched his brow in surprise. "She called me at work today, to tell me she feels she should spend more time with the kids while we're in therapy. She thinks the hour and a half that we're there, should be her time."

Chuckling, Peter sighed and scratched his brow. "I'll talk to her."

She eyed him knowingly. "Will you?"

"Yes, Alicia. I'll talk to my mother."

He watched her watching him, her relaxed eyes difficult to read. She didn't just call him over here to tell him about Jackie. He knew better. That could have been taken care of in a phone call. No, he got the feeling that what she had wanted to say, they needed to be face-to-face when she did, or she would find a million excuses as to why she couldn't.

"Is there something else? The kids?" he asked.

"No." She exhaled a slow breath and reached for her glass again. "I actually…wanted to thank you."

He leaned his head to the side and sat up straighter in the seat. "Oh? For what?"

She hesitantly met his eyes. "For supporting me during our session today."

_Oh, that__'__s what this is about_.

When they left Dr. Lewis' office earlier, she lost it in the elevator. He was caught off guard when she all but collapsed into his arms. Instinctively, he held her fiercely against his chest and ran his hands up and down her back as he soothed her cries. Her pain vibrated his soul, nearly making him shed a tear. He never once suspected after all this time that she was still hurting like this. That she was still so torn up inside. Then again, Alicia was infamous for bottling up her emotions and usually never dealt with them until it was too late.

Once the elevator doors opened and he pulled them into a nearby vacated conference room, her cries continued on and didn't cease until employees tried to enter the room, to which he politely closed the door in their faces. That moment eased the teeniest bit of hurt flooding her heart. Just a teeny bit. And he felt it. For regardless of what was said in the privacy of the office they visited once a week, he still respected her as his wife and as a mother to their children. And he was still her husband and was committed to being her husband in every sense of the word, no matter how hard she fought his attempts.

Nodding slowly, he leaned forward and rested his folded hands on the table. Looking at her, his voice dropped to a whisper as he focused only on her.

"That was a difficult time for us. I know, even harder on you."

"It was…still is at times."

She looked away from him and bit her lower lip, willing herself not to breakdown for the second time today.

He saw the heart-wrenching emotion threatening to fall over the brim of her eyes and reached out to grab her hand. "I'm here. I know sometimes you may not want me to be or feel that I'm not. But I'm here for you, Alicia."

It was at his words did she almost lose it. Again. Tears instantly lodged within her throat as she gripped his hand tighter.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Was that it?"

"Basically, yes."

He laughed lightly and leaned back in the chair, keeping one arm on the table. His finger tips tapped lightly along the wood. "So, what do you think of therapy so far?"

Unlinking their hands, she tucked her hair behind her ears as she thought for a moment.

"It has us talking."

"By some miraculous force."

She smiled. "I think we can call that, Dr. Lewis. How did you find him anyway?"

"A recommendation."

She stared at him for a second, remembering that though they had a tender moment, they didn't fail to have another verbal smack down today. As much as she convinced herself she didn't care, she did; she hated fighting with him. She usually left their sessions having a bad mood for the rest of the day. He got under her skin like no other.

"Are we okay?"

He considered her simple but loaded question, and nodded. "Yeah. We're okay." An awkward silence passed between them as he checked his watch. "Well, I guess I'll get going. It's getting late."

"Yes it is."

He rose from the chair. "I'll just go say goodbye to the kids and will be on my way."

She watched him go, until he disappeared around the corner, then downed the rest of her glass in two gulps. Staring back at the chair he sat in moments ago, she rested her head in her palm and dreamily envisioned him there. The way he took on that natural role of protector this afternoon caused her to remember how much she loved that side of him. Although somewhat unhealthy, she loved how he leaped into GI Joe mode when it came to her or their children. He would do anything to protect them.

Still.

Hearing him bidding the kids goodbye, she was brought out of her momentary daze as she rose from the chair. Trotting towards the kitchen to quickly check on the lasagna in the oven, she passed a hand over her face, realizing she probably shouldn't have had that second hefty glass. That familiar warm and relaxing feeling was settling in too soon. She had a a lot more studying to do.

Cranking up the kitchen timer for an additional fifteen minutes, she wiped her hands on a dish towel and made her way towards the door. Reaching for the gold brushed door knob, she smiled when she saw him finally walking her way. He was still clothed in his black suit with a complimenting crisp, snowy white shirt beneath and maroon silk tie around the neck, as his pea coat was casually flung over an arm. She always loved him in suits. He was so handsome and debonair. There were times that she would pinch herself to be reminded that he was hers and that she could freely enjoy ogling him as much as she wanted. And then there were the other times she had to remind herself that this same man, freely passed around what was hers, _what was theirs,_ without a second thought. Her head dropped to her chest at the notion for a matter of seconds as a pool of hurt filled her heart. That sedated feeling of them taking a step forward, diminished in the blink of an eye as it felt like they had taken a hundred back when his infidelities flooded her mind.

Choosing not to dwell on that, she opened the door and looked up at him once he turned in the doorway.

"I'll still pick them up here on Friday?"

"Yes. They should be ready about 6ish."

"Sounds good. See you then."

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion for her. The scent of his cologne swarmed her senses, evoking a feeling of comfort and peace once he leaned down to her petite frame and slipped an arm around her waist, slightly drawing her in as he planted a brief, but soft kiss on her cheek. His utterance of 'goodnight' in her ear nearly made her swoon.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

"Goodnight," she heard herself say when he pulled back and turned around, finally leaving. Shutting the door, she rested a hand over her heart as she leaned against the sturdy entrance and closed her eyes.

What was this feeling washing over her? Could it be influenced from the wine? She was still hurt, and grieving. She thought she had pushed that remaining, singular ounce of love she had for him aside to allow her to heal without feeling…something. To completely explore her emotions and their complex union without being swayed by the sentiments of her heart and soul. Her targeted goal now seemed like a joke.

Opening her eyes, she was met with those familiar orbs of her incessant daughter, standing to the right in the entryway of the family room with her arms folded, a questioning look on her face.

"What?" Alicia asked.

"Are you and Dad okay again? Is counseling helping?"

Walking towards her, Alicia cocked her head to the side. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because of how you two said goodbye just now." She smiled softly. "It was sweet."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "You're reading too much into things, little girl." Patting her cheeks, she bypassed her and walked towards the dining room.

"I know what I saw," Grace yelled after her.

"You saw what your eyes wanted to see. Now go get the outfit you've picked out for school tomorrow and show me. You're not walking out of here in another short skirt and too tight of a top. I don't care what Shannon's mother let's her wear." Grace huffed and slyly rolled her eyes. "And tell your brother dinner will be ready in ten minutes!"

Trudging past the dining room, she stopped and stared at her mother who was busy refilling her wine glass.

"I know what I saw," she said quickly before scurrying to her room to avoid the yelling she knew was behind her mother's steely gaze.

Bringing the crystal blown glass to her lips, Alicia stared back at where Peter sat breaths ago, wondering, just what had she seen herself.


	7. Week Three: Peter & Alicia

_**A/N**: This session is longer than the others, and a bit heavy. It will be broken into three parts. So bear with me and enjoy the ride! :)_

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Week Three: Peter & Alicia—Part I

Adam opened his notepad to a clean page as he relaxed into his seat and focused on the two individuals he had grown fond of these past few weeks. They had entered his office just five minutes ago now, appearing very much married. Not that they walked in arm-in-arm or were staring at each other with goggly eyes. But there was a vignette of easement that he picked up on. A striking contrast to the strangers they resembled when they began to argue, fighting like boxers, trying to calculate the best moment to throw an uppercut so the other backed down in defeat. Despite their history in this room, both seemed to be in good spirits as Peter _and _Alicia cheerily addressed him before settling on the divan. He didn't pay their slight change of attitude much mind, as he was concentrating on finishing a lengthy email. But now that the session was underway, their behavior struck him oddly.

His attention was immediately drawn to their positioning on the couch. It was something he had always observed, but today, he noticed it was somewhat….different. As he zoned in on Alicia's uncharacteristically relaxed demeanor and Peter's casual posture, he still couldn't place his finger on it, but something was definitely different.

Clearing his throat, he broke the contented silence filling the room, his native accent catching their interests. "You two seem…more neutral than usual. Almost as if you're comfortable in the other's presence again."

Their eyes met briefly, seeming to consider the possibility themselves, then looked back at him.

Seated on the couch, in their customary positions, everything did seem normal. Felt normal. For a change. That terrifying distance wasn't between them anymore. Granted there was still space between them, but she was no longer burying herself into the seat as deep as she could go to escape being close to him, and he had begun to gradually lean into the great wall they had built amidst them. Although it was probably merely an inch moved on both their parts, it was progress.

"What do you mean?" asked Peter.

Adam crossed his leg and sifted through his thoughts as he studied their body language for a baited minute.

"The," he formed an invisible giant sphere with his hands, "aura around you, on that couch, isn't as stifling and confrontational as it has been since our first session. It's like an understanding has passed between the two of you. That," he glanced down at his notes for a second, "Peter, your comforting Alicia during the tail end of our last session, shifted the animosity a bit."

Alicia adjusted herself along the couch and glimpsed at Peter, then stared down into her lap. She didn't want to discuss her emotional upheaval on last week again. She didn't want to dig that deep as soon as the session had begun.

Peter nodded, somewhat agreeing with his observation. "Well, after we left here last week, I did stop by her house and we talked. Maybe that has something to do with it."

Adam raised his brows at this revelation, as Alicia looked at Peter, wanting to reprimand him for sharing such details. It felt as if he had disclosed her greatest secret.

"And how was that visit?" asked Adam.

"Fine." He folded his arms and sank deeper into the cushion. "She just informed me about my mother being my mother."

She exhaled a breath of relief when he purposely left out the last part.

"What do you mean by that?"

Peter casually stroked his chin as he thought for a moment. "Well, she and Alicia haven't always had the best of relationships. So when the opportunity arises, she'll take any open door to interject herself inappropriately."

Adam narrowed his eyes. "How?"

He sighed as he thought of the numerous occasions where his mother never failed to put a strain in their marriage.

"For instance, right now, she's trying to use the time when we are here, to spend with our kids. It's not that she doesn't see them. She's free to spend time with them whenever she likes. But it's the little things like that, which causes chaos between the three of us."

Adam nodded as he wrote down a note.

"Alicia, how would you describe your relationship with your mother-in-law?"

She carefully sought out her words. "Nonsensical."

Adam stifled a laugh, not expecting that answer.

"I just…" she shrugged, "I will never understand it. The lengths she will go, to drive me crazy just to look good in Peter's eyes, will never cease to amaze me."

Peter chuckled slightly. "That's not what she does."

She whipped her head around to face him. "Of course you would think that because she's not always attacking you."

"She's not attacking you, Alicia."

"Then what would you call it? _Please_ enlighten me because I've been trying to figure it out since the day you introduced us."

Sighing, he rolled his head back and closed his eyes. "My mother and you have your differences. That's as far as this conversation needs to go."

Adam observed Alicia mostly. He saw how she wanted to say more on the matter, but chose to icily stare down her husband instead before averting her gaze back on him. Clearly this is a battle that she had always wanted to win, but knew she never could.

"Peter, do you take your mother's side when she and Alicia are disagreeing on a given matter?"

He looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "What? I've never taken my mother's side. If anything, I'm always caught in the middle between them, trying to make peace."

"No, I'm not implying that you deliberately side with your mother. That, I don't know. I've never seen the three of you interact. But just now, you sounded as if you were defending your mother to Alicia. Which, is natural. A son always wants to protect his mother. However, you two have been married long enough to where if you defended your mother to your wife on more than one occasion, that would cause a serious riff between the two of you."

"It does," said Alicia. "It did a lot in the beginning of our marriage. She hated that Peter would always side with me on things she didn't agree with."

Peter sucked his teeth as he shook his head.

Adam watched him closely, looking for signals that would show he was on the verge of exploding and challenge him to enlist a method of therapy he wasn't so experienced.

"Like what, Alicia?"

She began to twirl her wedding band. "Well, when we were freshly married, I was also pregnant with Zach. She didn't respect the fact that I wanted to work up until the time I was due, and even after I gave birth, didn't approve that I chose to return to work. She thought I should be a stay-at-home mother and cater to my husband, like her."

"Which, you did end up doing," said Peter.

She wasn't sure if his comment was just a matter of fact or if it was a low blow in some way. Whichever way he meant it, she took it as an insult.

Her face scrunched in disbelief as her head cocked to the side.

"Are trying to say something, Peter? Because I don't recall you complaining about how I took care of _our _house and _our_ children while you ran around doing whatever it was that pleased you."

"I'm not complaining, Alicia. And I didn't look down upon how you took care of home while I worked."

She stared hard at his profile, her voice leveled and steely when she spoke, "But your mother did."

Unfolding his hands, he closed his eyes and massaged his eyelids as he ignored the anger stirring inside of him. He wasn't going to lose his temper today.

"Let's explore the deep issues you have with my mother for another time, alright?"

"Why?" She knew she should have let it go, and where the pent up frustrations came from, she didn't know. But his flippant stance on the matter irked her. Just as it first did many years ago, and every moment in between. "So you can avoid it then, too?"

Adam rolled the platinum ballpoint pen between his fingers as he continued to monitor their interaction. It was interesting to see them confront the other this way; a stark polarity of Peter usually being the aggressor and Alicia carefully hitting him back when she felt necessary. But now, on an issue that clearly bothered her greatly and has for years, she didn't hesitate to dig into him like he had often did her, seemingly intent on striking him where she knew he couldn't win. Where she knew eventually, he would take her side. No matter what his mother did or said.

"Alicia, let's retract for a moment. You said that Peter's mother looked down upon your decision to not be a stay-at-home mother, which you eventually _did_ end up becoming. Did your relationship ever blossom from that?"

She leaned up from her slouched position and eyed Peter for a fleeting second.

"No. It only got worse because she always tried to come over and dictate our marriage and how we ran our household."

His eyes were fixed on Peter, who seemed like he was traveling down that familiar route of rage, getting ready to explode any second. His continuous, exaggerated sighs and squinted eyes centering on Alicia whenever her responses didn't praise his mother, led him to wonder just how long he had allowed the boundaries between the first woman whom had ever shown him love and the woman he was using his love to fight for, to be crossed.

"I see. But now that you're working again, I take it that you two have gotten worse, or have you found a happy medium?"

She tucked her hair behind her ears and re-crossed her legs. "It's a mutual acceptance."

Adam's brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of her answer. "I-I don't understand. Can you explain?"

"She means that they tolerate each other. And when needed, I will remind my mother that she is my wife, and the decisions we make, is between us. That's it."

His strong voice boasted throughout the room as he stared at her, giving a clear warning that they were truly done with this talk about his mother.

But she wasn't backing down. "I think he asked me, Peter."

If he wanted to go there, she was ready.

"Well, wasn't that what you were going to say? Because basically, that's the relationship."

Her brows rose in mock surprise. "Is it? Because I think it's more than just us tolerating each other, when not around you." She looked back to Adam. "To answer your question, Jackie and I have a relationship where, we basically agree to disagree. But it's when she questions my ability and overrules me as a mother that I can't tolerate her, and Peter doesn't understand that."

Peter laughed in disbelief. "Oh, when did she question your ability as a mother?"

His sarcasm struck a raw chord inside of her. He always brushed off her concerns when it came to the elder Florrick, unless the subject matter was dire or concerned the kids. To say it was annoying and drove her batty would be an understatement.

"When she took the kids to visit you in prison, to name one! I specifically told her not to. And what did she do? Took them anyway, because she wanted to make your birthday special." She rolled her eyes. "It's always been about you. It's always about what makes _you_ happy."

Adam patiently waited for either to venture further on the topic, but seeing how Alicia stared her husband down for a second time and he looked away, he realized he probably needed to prod where he shouldn't to get to the bottom of this.

"Alicia, does your mother-in-law still question your abilities as a working mother? Or, as a mother in general?"

She shook her head. "No. But I know still, she doesn't necessarily approve."

He nodded. "Can you tell me a time when she did question your ability?"

As her mind recollected his request, her eyes dropped to her lap as she took a deep seated breath, the memory sending her body into a state of poignant paralysis. "It was a few years ago." Her mouth grew dry as involuntary tears flooded her eyes. She ensured to keep her gaze down. "It was…it was when I…"

Adam sat up straighter in his chair as he watched her closely, his mouth practically salivating. What she was about to say, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was the issue he had been wanting so badly to know on last week, so that he could help this couple overcome the great wall they had built in their marriage.

Peter watched her with a held breath, anticipating the moment when he would have to reach out and pull her into his arms.

"When you what, Alicia?" Adam asked softly.

Lifting her head, she blinked rapidly as she licked her lips and swallowed the lump in her throat.

"When I miscarried our second baby," she whispered so low Adam thought he was going to have to ask her to repeat it.

Neither men said a word as they watched her emotionally unravel, struggling to inhale deep breaths and not dissolve into tears. When she held her head high and focused on Adam again, did he continue.

"And how did she question your role as a mother from that event? Was it a physical question about your ability to bear children?"

She shook her head, trying to suppress the tornado of hurt rising inside as she swiped a tear that trickled down her cheek.

"Then what?"

Her lip quivered as the flashback played through her mind of that time when she was eight weeks pregnant and curled into a ball on their limestone bathroom floor, pleading to the God she believed in at the time not to take her baby. Again.

_"__Oh, God. No. No. No! Not again!__"_

_ H__unched over in the computer __chair, __I breathe in and out__ deeply__, trying not to focus on the sudden and intense pain swirling in my abdomen. This couldn__'__t be happening again. Not so soon. Not literally months after suffering a previous loss. My eyes glance up to the wide screen monitor of the computer, the browser page still on the layette section of Janie and Jack children__'__s clothing site. Tears instantly flood my eyes as I see the yellow, cashmere onesie I was just about to add in my growing online cart._

_ Biting my lower lip, I slowly rise from the chair with an arm wrapped around my stomach, instantly paralyzed from the shooting pain vibrating throughout my belly._

_ "__Oh God.__" _

_ The pressure in my lower back and pelvis brings me to my knees as I drop to the floor, grasping the back of the cushioned seat for support, desperately trying to breathe through the excruciating pain. The thought of calling Peter and my doctor runs across my mind, but the cordless phone is on the opposite side of the room, too far from my reach. I know I can__'__t stay here. For in minutes, I will be a mess. And my children are due home within the hour from school. They can__'__t find me here like this._

_The tides of pain only intensify when I attempt to crawl down the hallway towards our bedroom, my destination the bathroom. It was worst the first time. A lot worse. Which is why, although the pain is strong, it__'__s not in the same ballpark as the first. My child might be worth saving. It might. I can barely see past a few feet in front of me from the tears clouding my eyes as sobs wrack my body. Numerous times do I have to stop and gather my breath as a thundering wave hits me harder than the last, sinking my glimmer of hope faster than the destruction happening in my uterus._

_ Somehow, I managed to eventually reach the bathroom. My hands finally touch the heated limestone flooring as I feel the warmth burst between my legs. The feeling is indescribable, and a confirmation of my worst fear. Curling into a ball beside the toilet, I clench my stomach and cover my face as I pray through__my cries, pleading with God that he would spare my baby. To please not take another one from me so soon. I bargain everything I can think of as I feel another__warm gush seep from__ my body__, this one heavier than the first. Much heavier. The fear of looking between my legs, of feeling the life ending before it began in the seat of my pants, to visually see the evidence of my child as I saw on the first time on the crimson stained sheets of our bed, leaves me numb with pain. And still yet, I pray. That I would be a better wife, a better mother, just a better person if he spared this life. _

_I guess he didn__'__t hear me__. _

_ Another ripple tears through my belly causing me to cry out this time._

_Why me? Why again?_

"Alicia?"

She snapped to attention at her therapist, who was now sitting forward in his chair, his arms resting on his knees, seeming as if the first second that she lost her strong will and broke down, would he fly to the couch and comfort her.

"What are you thinking?"

Her red-laced eyes glanced to Peter. It was seeing the pained expression in his own eyes that led her to turn her head away and bury her face into her hands.

"When I lost our babies," she sobbed.

Moving across the space on the couch, Peter began to pull her into his arms, but she swung out her hands, pushing him away.

"No! Do not touch me, Peter. Don't!"

Adam observed how she coiled back into her usual buried position on the couch and covered her eyes as she tried to gain control of her grief. Her suffering right now, made him feel as if it was something that had just happened, the intensity of her agony making him doubly consider probing this issue further.

"Alicia, can we…talk about when you had your miscarriages? Perhaps it will…help you heal. Help you _both _heal."

Lowering her hand from her face, she accepted the tissue Adam offered as she quickly wiped her eyes and looked to her husband. She saw the own sadness in his eyes, the brokenness the same as it had been on the day when they realized she lost their first baby. It was at his mien did an unspeakable feeling of commiseration course through her just as it did then.

Opening her mouth to speak, no words came out as the tears only flowed harder. It had been nearly three years now and even she didn't understand why it still hurt so much. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she did not allow herself to properly grieve after the last one and months after did their lives turn upside down from Peter's allegations, allowing her no time to mourn. All she could do was survive and compartmentalize those feelings, which she carried in a reserved space of her soul, hoping one day to unleash them and find a pith of restoration.

Peter watched her visibly tremble from despair, wanting badly to take her pain away, badly wishing he could somehow bring back the two miracles they were robbed. He felt powerless as he was only able to be here for her now, hoping that she didn't push him away as she did those years ago.

"Do you need me to step out? Would you like to talk with Dr. Lewis about this alone?" he softly asked.

Dropping her head, she shook it fervently. "No. You've been wanting to hear this since 2008."

Her eyes slowly closed for a second as she remembered those two misfortunes vividly. Unlike other occasions when she shut down the thought as soon as it entered her mind, she instead put on a brave face and permitted herself to relive those desolating moments.

Steeling her back against the couch, she stared straight into Adam's eyes as she imagined herself in court as a strong and courageous woman on the witness stand, instead of being a vulnerable and broken wife on this couch. She would not break down or waver. She would finally unchain her vow of silence and tell the details of when apart of her died, and never recovered. For perhaps from this small testimony, they could both find some solace and open the door they had been struggling to reach, that contained the solution in helping them restore their shattered marriage.


	8. Week Three: Peter & Alicia--Part II

Week Three: Peter & Alicia—Part II

It felt as if time was standing still. As if life was floating around her in a reverie paradigm and she was the axle, helplessly watching it spin out of her control. She clutched the kleenex tighter in her hand as she tried to ignore the dryness that had begun to coat her mouth. Her tongue lay dormant, refusing to move even a minuscule and enable her to speak. That familiar paralysis which had kept her in an emotional jail for years, was back. She needed to talk about those losses. There was no denying it. They had killed a piece of her that she longed to recover. A piece that not only damaged her soul, but also damaged _them_.

"Alicia?" said Adam, her extended silence causing both men to stare at her, worried.

She blinked rapidly, attempting to focus her gaze as she stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time. So lost in her own thoughts, she forgot he had been waiting to hear about a time that made her question everything she believed in. Licking her lips, she folded her hands together and inhaled a deep breath.

"I lost two babies, on two separate occasions."

She peered down at the detailing of the carpet as she began to recall.

"The first time it happened, we had been trying for months to get pregnant, desperate to add onto our little family tree." She faintly smiled at the fond memory. "It was a last minute choice for sure. Our kids were practically on the cusp of entering young adulthood. But after an accidental scare, I never realized how badly I wanted another baby until that moment. Peter was more than willing to jump on board."

She glanced to her husband whose silent demeanor matched her own somber bearing. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand, to slide across the couch and crush her into the safety of his embrace. They needed to feel each other right now, no matter how much she had convinced herself he should remain at bay. It was hard to sit here and do what she wanted without asking, but he would respect her space as she took the first step in healing.

Adam reclined back in his chair, intrigued to hear this narrative. As much as he could, he did not want to interrupt because he was certain, the most difficult patient between the two of them, was now making a breakthrough.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, she balled the tissue in her hands as she swallowed hard, continuing on even though she wanted to do nothing more than flee from the room.

"It was hard for us to get pregnant, to say the least."

"But we had fun trying," Peter whispered, his tone gruff and just as emotionally laden as hers.

"We did," she said hollowly. "Because we were getting older in age, we initially thought it was Peter who was the issue. Being that he is nearly ten years my senior, a series of tests quickly ruled out that he was not the problem. The harsh reality was simply that we were older. And probably out of our minds," she laughed.

Peter continued to watch her, his heart racing as those same buried feelings rose in him with every word she said.

"But that didn't stop us," she carried on. "We were determined to get pregnant. By some miracle, we finally did." She began to twirl her wedding band as an inexplainable coldness washed over, making her feel as if she would begin to shake. Telling herself to remain strong and not flounder was becoming more and more difficult. "We attended a charity gala that night on the day we found out. I was six weeks along and didn't even know it. We were thrilled. Life was finally perfect and we felt like the world was ours again."

Her gaze darkened as she bit her lower lip and tried to control the slight shaking of her hands.

"What happened after that night?" Adam asked.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she closed her eyes and tried to suppress the heart wrenching sob that threatened to escape.

Removing his glasses, Adam dangled the frames within his fingertips as he leaned forward, mentally rehearsing the steps that therapists enlisted when they felt their own feelings would potentially cloud a situation. He felt for her as she recounted this unfortunate ordeal, but at no point could he allow himself to feel emotionally swayed from her words. No matter how much the father in him wanted to offer some sort of solace to this destroyed woman sitting on that couch.

He tried again. "Alicia, if you don't want to continue at this time—"

She dabbed her eyes as she shook her head. "No." Her voice trembled, resembling more of a plea when she spoke. "I do. I need to."

Inhaling an unsteady breath, she proceeded in as much of a controlled voice as she could muster.

"Exactly eight weeks later," she bit the inside of her cheek, exhaling a slow breath, willing herself to finish the story as the horrifying recollection swallowed her whole. "I-I woke up on a Saturday morning…and things had changed. I woke up in pain. I tried my best to ignore it and thought it would pass, and if it did, I would just bring it to the attention of my obstetrician during my appointment that following Monday." She sniffed back more tears as she blotted her eyes. "But the pain never went away."

Adam sat upright and slipped his glasses back over his eyes as he continued to study her. She was emotionally broken in every sense of the word. This woman had experienced a great loss and demise of her marriage in a very short duration of time. No wonder she was closed off and like a bomb waiting to explode. Life had killed her in ways she wasn't ready for.

"The pain was so intense that…"

Peter couldn't sit there another second watching her unravel this way. He had to do something.

"Honey," he whispered, his eyes pleading with her to stop.

She looked at him briefly, his muttered affection wanting to make her curl into a ball and cry until she had nothing left.

"I'm fine," she said. Straightening her back against the couch, she pressed on. "When I climbed out of bed that morning, the pain began to remind me of being in labor, disabling me to stand as I realized what was probably happening inside my body. My world turned upside down. At that time, I was fourteen weeks pregnant."

Leaning her head back, she blinked away tears and tried to push the image from her mind of the first time they saw their little nugget during an ultrasound appointment.

"Peter didn't know what was happening at first. Between my hysterical crying and him trying to calm Zach and Grace down from seeing me that way, the reality of what happened didn't sink in until he crouched on the floor with me beside our bed, trying to get me to calm down as I…as I…"

Her eyes clamped shut as she dropped her head and shielded her face with her hand. The visual of their fifteen-hundred thread count, ivory sateen sheets drenched in a small pool of crimson, threatened to sap whatever was left of her will to sit here and bare herself this way.

"….as I grasped the sheets, trying to bring our baby back to life."

"Alicia."

This time, Peter didn't hesitate to reach for her hand, but she pushed him away, again.

"No, Peter. Don't. Just don't."

Adam wondered if they had ever talked about this until now. Her continuance in pushing him away led him to believe that they had not. That she had been carrying this grief around for so long and hurting for so long…alone. Why did she not permit her husband to be there for her in a time she desperately needed him? Why did she not allow them both to grieve this terrible loss together?

"Alicia," Adam gently prodded, "You said you were fourteen weeks at the time of the miscarriage. At that stage, the fetus has usually developed—"

"I know." She nodded fervently, wanting to block out all memories that their baby had any signs of life. "Peter took me to the hospital because I was losing so much blood. My doctor told me that I was experiencing a complicated, late miscarriage caused by a cervical weakness due to my age." She looked at Peter before zoning her red-laced eyes back on Adam. "They wheeled me into surgery to remove…the rest…of the…"

She tucked her lips into her mouth as she shook her head, refusing to shed another tear.

"Alicia…honey, stop."

Gazing into his own harrowing eyes, an involuntarily sob rushed past her lips. She remembered the expression on his face, resembling just as it did then now, when she screamed at the top of her lungs on the hospital gurney while the nurses forced an oxygen mask over her face, trying to get her to calm down as they prepared for surgery. She pleaded with Peter then, to not let them take their baby, to do something to stop them, to not allow the inevitable to happen. He stood by, lost and helpless, as she continued to beg him through her tears. In the back of her mind, she knew that he was helpless in the matter. He had no power over the situation. It was either they removed the remainder of the fetus or she would bleed to death. She beseeched him until she was unconscious to save their child.

He didn't listen.

"On that day, they took my baby from me. My child was ripped," her words were filled with insurmountable hate, "from my body. And five months after that," she slowly lifted her head, daring to hold it high, "I lost another baby. I lost two babies, within ten months."

Staring at Adam, who was looking at her with the most sincerest eyes, and then to her husband, who seemed as if he was dying inside just like her, resulted in everything hitting her at that moment. Her strong facade crumbled in seconds as she covered her mouth, attempting to silence her weeps and jumped up from the couch.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, disappearing into the side bathroom, which was adjacent to the bookcase.

Adam watched her retreat and then looked back to Peter, who gaped at the shut bathroom door, completely at a loss for words. Clearly he was feeling the same as him. No words seemed appropriate to describe what he had just heard except: Wow. He didn't know how to respond to the severity of her confession so quick. He certainly was not expecting that, or for her to share as much as she did. It all slowly began to make sense for him. No wonder they were in this current state of despondency while teetering on the edge of recovering what was defunct. They had experienced a loss and betrayal in a given time frame that most couples don't experience in a lifetime, or even in such a short amount of time.

"I'm going to go check on her," said Peter as he began to rise from the couch.

He sat idly while she had her moment, struggling to resist the urge to catch her as she free-falled into the abyss of suffering.

"Peter, it's alright. It's barely been a minute. Give her a moment."

Adam could see he wanted so badly to go to her. To be there for her now as she didn't allow him then. But going to her right now, when she was emotionally naked, was not a good idea.

"I can't just sit here."

Adam nodded slowly. "I understand. I know you want to comfort her. But if she didn't want you to do so while she was sitting there beside you, I don't think she would now. She just needs a minute alone." He laid out his hands, as if showing him the pro's and con's of acting on his impulses. "Let's give her that."

He glanced at his therapist, seeming to consider what he said, before he decided to hell with it and acted on those warned impulses. Getting up from the couch, he walked the short distance to the ebony wood trimmed, frosted glass door and knocked lightly.

Adam lowered his head and shook it, knowing everything, the strong progress that was just made, was about to go downhill.

"Alicia?" He jingled the stainless steel doorknob. "Baby, are you alright in there?"

He was mindful to keep his tone of voice soothing and gentle. He felt at a complete loss being on the other side. That urge to protect her, to hold her in his arms until everything was alright again, had him rooted outside of the door, hoping that she would open it any second.

Alicia stared at her blood-shot eyes in the mirror, then to the closed door in the reflection. She had come in here to splash water on her face and attempt to clean up, to make herself look somewhat presentable before going back out there. That plan failed. For when she closed the door and turned around, her eyes rested on the toilet, generating both instances of each miscarriage to flood her mind. She remembered returning home from the hospital after the first, remembered how her breasts continued to leak of milk for a week and how she bled for two more weeks. She remembered how she would lay awake at night, unable to sleep from trying to envision the tiny flutters in her belly that she had grown accustomed to feel. All were painfully vivid reminders of the life that she was carrying inside of her just days before, and then, it was just...gone.

"Alicia, talk to me," pleaded Peter.

Snapping back to the present, she pictured him on the other side, of how he must look. She knew he was desperate to fulfill a role he had practically begged her to those years ago, and even now, she wouldn't let him. It wasn't fair, but it was the only way she knew to protect herself until she was ready. Wiping her eyes with the cool towel clenched in her hand, she inhaled a deep breath and brushed her hair back from her face. She had to go back out there. No matter how much she wanted to stay in this room and just be alone, she had to face the music. Tossing the towel in the waste bin, she smoothed a hand down her stomach as she journeyed back outside.

It felt like years had passed for Peter when she finally opened the door, her sad eyes no longer mirroring hurt, but annoyance and dare he say…anger?

"Don't call me, baby," she snapped and brushed past him.

He stepped back, aghast. _What is wrong with her?_

"Are you alright?"

"Im fine, Peter." She settled back onto the couch as he followed suit.

Adam scrutinized their actions, wondering himself what had caused such a switch in her attitude. If he had to guess, he would attribute it to a common emotional, primitive defense mechanism. When patient's felt—during therapy—too enveloped in an unwanted period of their lives, they would often dissociate from those feelings and sometimes that memory altogether by adopting a completely opposite behavior. He could recognize that's what she was doing. She wasn't an individual whom was comfortable with expressing her innermost feelings. She had done her part; she had sang her song. She had let him see a piece of who she really was. And now, she was deflecting. Dissociating herself with that weak woman by reverting back to the angry and compartmentalized individual he met during their first session.

Flipping open his notepad to a fresh page, he eyed them over the brim of his glasses.

"Are you really alright, Alicia? Are you sure you feel fine to continue the session today? I know how hard that was for you to talk about."

She nodded in assurance. "I'm fine."

Peter stared at her like she had lost her mind. She was now composed and alert, a far cry from his wife that sat here just minutes ago, an emotional mess. What did she do in that bathroom?

"Okay," Adam said slowly. "If you're sure. Then I would like to discuss what prompted you to share your miscarriages. You said that your mother-in-law questioned your role as a mother because of them. Why did she do that?"

"Jackie felt like Peter needed another son. Actually, she told me he _wanted_ another son. And because I suffered two miscarriages, she questioned whether I was capable of being a suitable wife to him…of being a proper mother to our children."

Peter angled his body to face her as he looked at her, his mouth hanging open, struggling to process this revelation.

"But Alicia, you said that she didn't question your child bearing abilities. I'm sorry, but I'm not following how she was suspicious of your role as a mother."

She licked her lips and folded her arms, resting them across her stomach. "After the first miscarriage, I was a shell. I…suppose some might say I was in a temporary depression. Once I lost the second baby, I was somewhat detached for months. I think she more so questioned my mental ability to handle—"

"When did she tell you that?!" Both of them looked at him, surprised at his outburst. "I never said I wanted another son." He sucked his teeth and shook his head, obviously skeptical of her accusation. "My mother did _not_ tell you that."

_Is he calling me a liar_? Whipping her head around to face him, she laughed in disbelief.

"How would you know, Peter?! You were too busy screwing other women to know what was happening at home!"

Lowering his head, he held it in his hands, wondering when she would stop going back there. He was beyond tired of this argument.

"Alicia, don't bring that up again. That has nothing—"

"When was the first time, Peter?"

Her voice shook, reflecting in a trio of fear, hurt and rage. She couldn't stop herself. His assertion reminded her of all the times that she cried herself to sleep at night, wishing he was there to hold her. The crushing admission was that she was fully aware she was the one that had pushed him away. That was still hard for her to acknowledge.

"Huh?" Facing him, she felt her heart increase it's pace as the anger charged through every bone in her body. "Was it after I lost the first baby? After I denied you sex twice in one night?!"

She no longer cared that Adam was sitting there. She had been careful to reveal only so much in these sessions. Careful in not letting herself truly be emotionally raw to him…to a stranger. But after sharing the experiences of her miscarriage, there was nothing left to hide. She had bared it all.

Peter looked at her and began to loosen his tie. Leaning forward, he linked his fingers together and breathed deeply, determined not to strike back.

"Let's not go there. Especially now."

Unfolding her hands, she scooted towards the edge of the seat and narrowed her eyes on him. When he looked at her, his sad and remorseful eyes caused her own to brim with fresh tears as the betrayal encased her heart.

"Why not? You don't want to admit to Dr. Lewis how much of a _sick_ bastard you are? That while your wife was mourning the loss of _your _babies, you went out and spent sixty-three thousand dollars on another woman for sex while I was shut down in a state of grief?!"

Adam's eyebrows rose so high he was certain they touched the ceiling at this information revealed. He had known Peter's infidelities were bad. But the grave extent of his actions that were unveiled with each passing session, even he could not have guessed the destruction.

Peter chuckled, not believing the words she just said. He was not alone in this.

"Shut down or should we say doped up, Alicia?"

Her head slowly pivoted to face him again, her mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

"Yeah," he nodded as he leaned across the space, closer to her. "You thought I didn't know you were addicted to pain killers?"

Her eyes fluttered, not believing he had said what she thought he did. But when he continued to sit there, not saying anything, it was then that she felt the sinking feeling in her gut, realizing she had heard right. That was a time in her life she had wanted to forget. She couldn't believe he brought that up.

"I was not addicted. The surgery had me in pain for weeks! You knew that. I could barely use the bathroom without your help."

"For a few weeks. Not months, Alicia! Not for two months after you had the first miscarriage. It got so bad you couldn't get through the morning without having your daily dose of morphine."

She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it._ He knew that?_ Or was she just too high then to register that he noticed?

Never before in her life had she hit rock bottom until then. Sure, she had experienced her share of disappointments, and had learned over the years to suck it up and move on. But never had she hit the lowest of lows once she lost her babies. Everything that she thought was real and true, had been shattered. Even the love of her children couldn't rescue her from the failure and heartache that consumed her daily. Being prescribed morphine to help with the pain of having an incomplete miscarriage did help with the bodily pain, but it also began to help with the emotional suffering. It became easy to numb that feeling of never-ending sorrow and loss by upping her dosage a little more here and there. All of which she never thought he noticed.

Adam's hand rapidly flew across his notepad as he scribbled down this information. Just when he thought he had the Florrick's figured out, they continuously proved him wrong.

"I wasn't addicted," she repeated.

Peter raked a hand through his hair as he folded his arms and relaxed back against the seat.

"You were dependent enough. I remember the day I came home to find you passed out in the middle of our bed, scaring me, thinking you had committed suicide from overdosing." He stared at her, his piercing gaze hard and challenging. "I guess I'm supposed to still think that was "grief", too?!"

The fury surged through her at lightening speed upon hearing his words. She couldn't control her hand when it rose into the air, and swung across the space between them to land on his cheek, hitting him so hard the force caused his face to turn. She breathed heavily as she watched him hold his face, sitting in utter shock.

"HEY!" Adam leaped from his chair as he walked around the coffee table to stand in front of them, the look on his face a mixture of shock and reprimanding. "Alicia, I know you are upset. But I will not condone a physical retaliation of any kind in my office."

Her chest rose and fell heavily as she glared up at Adam before looking back at Peter, absolutely livid.

Of all things, they never spoke about _that_ day. Even after it happened, after he found her in bed that one day, they never mentioned it ever again. She thought it was an unspoken vow they shared. That it happened, she had just had a bad day, and well, her emotions got the best of her. It was a bad judgement call and both were thankful that he came home at the right time. But she bounced back after that…moment. She had realized what had almost happened and did what she needed to get over the drowning melancholy. There was too much to live for.

Peter continued to hold his face as his eyes clouded in wrath, while she sat there, staring him down, fuming with anger. Round two was not about to happen. She couldn't stay here any longer, couldn't handle the grave truths that were continuously being brought to light beyond her control. Breaking their death stare match, she reached down to the floor for her purse.

"Alicia, no," said Adam as he took a step back, watching as she got up and shouldered her bag. She was going to flee. Again. "Stay. Please."

"I cant bear this, Dr. Lewis. Not today." She tucked her hair behind her ears. "I can't even look at him right now."

Peter scoffed as he smoothed a hand over his still stinging jaw. "You don't think I was hurting, too?" he said lowly. "They were my babies also. I lost two children in a short span of time, too, Alicia."

She ignored him as she bit her lower lip and strutted towards the door.

Peter stood from the couch, causing Adam to walk back around to his chair and remain a safe distance, careful to not be in the line of their dudgeon but safe enough to intervene if needed.

He stared at his wife as if he dared her to leave, and if she did, so help him he was going to run after her. She would hear what he had to say. "Run. That's your favorite thing to do isn't it? When all the chips have fallen, you don't try to pick up the pieces. You just run."

She turned around to face him, her chest swiftly rising and falling, hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Perhaps I don't want to sit here and listen to my husband call me a drug addict and accuse me of attempting suicide during a difficult time in my life."

"_Our _life, Alicia! That was a difficult time in _our _life and those losses were_ ours_!"

Her stance faltered as she drew back slightly and flinched at his words, as if for the first time, she was comprehending that this deep seated sorrow wasn't just her own. That he did share it. He cautiously inched forward towards her position by the door, triggering Adam to nervously watch their interaction in front of his seat, hoping she didn't hit him again.

Peter dropped his head for a moment, gazing down at the floor, trying to find a way to express his own buried frustrations. When he slowly lifted his head, his eyes conveyed every bit of turmoil that she felt, nearly knocking her off her feet.

"I wanted more than anything to swallow a bottle of pills after I watched the doctor's remove our child from your body and just throw it away. As if it was a piece of garbage."

Her free arm flew around her stomach as she gasped at his words, feeling as if they had sucked the very last ounce of strength she had been hanging onto for the last three years. Hiding her face, she concealed her cries as she gripped the doorknob, the only thing holding her up right at the moment. _He saw that? _She remembered, through her hysterics and before she was sedated by the anesthesia, that he promised to never leave her side during the procedure. She could only guess he used his position as the State's Attorney during that time to remain in the room.

Peter watched her grapple with his confession, his heart breaking as she resembled that distraught woman those years ago. One that pushed him away and had checked out of their marriage. With vigilance, he inched closer to her position, tears brimming in his own eyes. His shoulders had dropped, a subtle indication showing her that all of the hurt he had been feeling, too, was real.

"I felt like a coward," he whispered. Alicia lowered her hand from over her eyes and looked at him, her fingers trembling as they came to rest on her lips, caging her sobs from breaking free at hearing this all for the first time. "I felt loss as a man...as a husband, because I didn't know how to help you. I didn't know how to save my wife. And I didn't know how to deal with what I was feeling."

Gazing into his heart broken face, although his own grief broke her heart, she could only think of one thing.

"You had a fine way of dealing with your confusion."

"You pushed me away! It tore me up inside to watch you suffer. That at the mere sight of me, you could shut down like that." His voice dropped to a mere whisper as he peered into her eyes. "How do you think I felt? Whenever I so much as touched you, you would shrivel up…like my touch made your skin crawl."

She didn't care. Regardless that she was emotionally unavailable, that in no way would excuse his actions in her mind.

Ever.

"So what, Peter?! That made what you did okay?!" She threw her hands up into the air. "Because I didn't want you _touching_ me, because I didn't even feel like a woman anymore, that made it okay for you to spend _our_ money and fuck a whore eighteen times?!"

"No," he dropped his head. "I shouldn't have done that. I hate that I did that to you."

"So do I!" she wailed. "And you know what else I hate, Peter? I hate that I still love you so much it hurts. That my heart wants to forgive you, but I can't. That every time I look into your eyes, I see that a prostitute and my _best friend_ has had half of me." If words could kill, he swore she just killed him in that second. "The worst part? I feel as if I will never get past this. That's what I hate. I hate that you hurt me, when I believed you never would. Especially then."

She paused her rant to stare deep into his eyes, knowing that he needed to hear what she was about to say just as much as she needed to admit it to herself.

"And I hate that we both have played a part in our marriage being in the state that it's in."

Adam observed their frozen stance by the door, and how they both deteriorated back into those strangers he first met weeks ago. Once a few seconds had passed, he figured they were done dealing venomous blows. He treaded carefully to their position, and cleared his throat.

"Why you don't you two sit back down? Take a moment to calm down and just process all that happened in the last twenty minutes."

Alicia only looked at Peter, shaking her head. She couldn't do this anymore today.

"Please, Alicia," Peter whispered. "I want to fix us. I want to work through this. I want to heal."

She gripped the doorknob tighter, her feet still angled towards the exit, itching to run from the room.

"Alicia, let me help you…let me help you both," Adam coaxed.

Her eyes shifted between the two of them as they pleaded with her to stay. All she could think about was how vulnerable she was. She hated feeling that way. One soul-bearing moment today was enough. But she owed it to herself, to her lost babies, to Zach and Grace. She needed to be better than she was before she walked into this room.

Reluctantly, she released her hand from the knob and slowly walked back over to the couch and sat down. Peter mouthed a thank you to Adam as he too sat back within his seat.

Combing a hand through his salt and peppered short hair, Adam was certain he would need a drink after this session was over. As he plopped back into his chair and grabbed his trusty notepad, he stared at the two despondent individuals before him once again, wondering where to start.

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_**A/N**_: _I know this chapter was heavy and probably hard to read. I struggled to write it and was hesitant in posting. But__…__just please, stay with me. I promise it will get better :)_


	9. Week Three: Peter & Alicia--Part III

**A/N: **_Apologies for the delay in updating. Life happened. Hope this more than makes up for it__…__at least just a little! :) Also, please overlook the formatting issues. _

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Week Three: Peter & Alicia—Part Three

_A sprouting multitude of deep-seated issues brewing beneath the surface in which neither spouse is emotionally able to confront._

_1. Infidelity_

_2. Miscarriages_

_ 3. Prescription abuse_

_4. In-law boundaries _

Adam paused the ballpoint of his pen along the lined paper as he glimpsed at Peter and Alicia sitting on the couch in a stony silence, neither daring to look at the other as they waited for him to regenerate this session. His eyes floated down to his notes again and briefly glazed over the cursive musings before focusing back on them. The short list of observed contentions would multiply once this assembly was over, he was certain. Their chorused betrayal and whispered, grueling loss were major issues which had them at a crossroads without any idea how to get back on track.

Propping his elbow on the armrest of the heirloom chair, he balanced his notepad on his knee and held his fisted hand over his lips as he analyzed the prostrated couple that was seated on divergent sides with their heads hung low and arms defensively crossed over their chests. The emotional task of restoring this man and wife showered him in a plethora of doubt and anxiety, filling his gut like a dormant twenty-pound heavy weight. That sinking mistrust told him that this may possibly be their toughest session yet. For him anyway.

"Would either of you like to share how you are feeling?" he began.

Their heads slowly lifted to attention as they looked at each other, then back to him. Again, neither said a word. Adam sighed as he pushed his glasses down to the bridge of his nose and eyed them. Which one to start with was always his greatest dilemma. Both were unpredictable.

"Alicia. "

She hesitantly met his gaze, her iris's resembling a deeper, smoldering hue of hunter green. Her usually welcome and steadfast orbs flashed him a warning that said she had revealed enough today so he better not push for more.

"You recounted a very difficult experience. One that you have never spoken about until now, I assume?"

She nodded.

Running the tip of his pen along his cheek, Adam shifted his focal point to Peter, whom was now sitting forward, his arms propped on his knees like he was preparing himself for battle again. Predictably unlike his wife who had resumed her trademark, nonchalant repose in the corner of the seat.

"Have you two ever talked about any of the things you voiced? And by talking, I don't mean arguing. I mean, have you ever sat down and had a cogent discussion about the loss of your children, about Peter's infidelities, or your mother-in-law even?"

Alicia glanced to her husband as she leaned back, pressing her shoulders further into the cushion. She refused to speak. The visceral anger and tension still had her seething. If Peter so much as said one wrong thing, she was done. Without a second of vacillation. The stream of emotions rushing through her were static. She was upset and distraught, and wasn't sure when those feelings would simmer down. What possessed her to sit here on this couch again, even she didn't comprehend. She had rationalized in her mind, when they were trying to rescue her from the bargaining chip of fleeing, that she owed it to herself. But now she was beginning to second guess that choice.

"No, we haven't," said Peter. "The topic of my mother is a lost cause and in regards to my betraying our marriage vows and her miscarriages…" He looked at Adam, his eyes resembling a far away look. "We just never…really discussed those."

"Why? Why did you two choose to go through the motions with two heavy grievances looming overhead?"

Peter sighed as he leaned back and widened his gapped legs. He extended a hand back to rest on his neck and began rubbing the tight muscles, hoping the eased rigidity would provide him a clear conscience.

"I guess, along the way, we forgot how to communicate."

Adam watched Alicia the entire time he spoke. She had checked out of this session. He knew that. Her avoidance of eye contact by staring down into her lap as she pinched the bridge of her nose told him she was playing the role of stressed and uninterested, another non-verbal defense mechanism signaling to leave her alone.

But a marriage wasn't just one person. And neither was couple's therapy.

"Alicia, would you agree with Peter? That you two forgot how to communicate?"

She lowered her hand from her face and slowly looked in the direction of her husband. His confused and somber eyes only increased her apprehension of having to sit here for another thirty minutes.

Meeting Adam's mask of adroit patience, she reflected on his question a second longer, then shrugged. "I suppose."

They were going to make it really hard for him this time. _Really_ hard.

"Was there _ever_ a fluid line of communication in your marriage? Before the miscarriages, before the infidelities," he looked to Peter, "before your mother became an issue. Tell me a little bit about your marriage before all of these things became a catalyst as to why you're here now."

Peter glanced to his wife. "Would you like to tell him?"

Her sad eyes stared back into his paralleled spheres. She wasn't in a position to say much more than was required. For she felt as if a knife was still lodged in her heart.

"You go ahead," she whispered.

Nodding, he rocked his head from side to side as he thought for a moment.

"During the last three and a half years, I guess…we became strangers. Probably even before that." Sighing, he peered up into the ceiling, juggling the recesses of his brain.  
"It was when I was promoted to State's Attorney. Our kids were twelve and eleven at the time." He folded his arms back across his chest and tilted his head to the side. "I suppose we hit a stale point that most married couples experience when they've been together as long as we had. Sure, we had date nights, I still randomly sent her flowers and catered to her as often as I could. And then, I got busy with work and she was…" he shrugged, "she was at home. We just forgot…about us. Each other. But it wasn't always that way."

Alicia stared at his profile, her eyes softening as she listened to him with perked ears.

"Years ago, while I was partner at a law firm downtown, here, in the loop, when case loads were lax, I had more time then to be at home. My hours were flexible during those periods. I was afforded the rare opportunity to be a fully involved father and husband." He angled his head to face her, a smile beginning to adorn his mouth. "There were days I couldn't wait to get home just to see their faces." Breaking their gaze, he looked back to Adam. "We used to talk on the phone multiple times a day then. Whether it was her calling just to confirm what's for dinner or asking if I could pick up something from the market on the way home. Or as simple as me phoning just because I wanted to hear her voice. Our communication was strong then."

Her lips contorted into a glum smile, the expression reflecting in her too distant eyes.

"How about when conflicts arose?" asked Adam.

He inhaled deeply as he pursed his lips, thinking long and hard for a minute. He was leery of the words he said. For he knew she didn't want to talk right now, but he couldn't help but feel this was some form of a test. That at one failed recollection, they would be back to square one.

"We always talked them through. Whether it was concerning our kids, finances, my career or just us. We always talked a problem through. No matter how big or small. Alicia used to joke we would run out of things to talk about because we were always talking."

Adam smiled. "So why did that communication cease during a time when it was critical?"

He nonchalantly swayed his shoulders. "I'm not sure. Even now. I think," he looked at Alicia, "I think we badly wanted the first baby, and then it was gone. We both have a competitive nature; we like to win. The loss felt similar to when someone thinks they've won something they wished for and then it is taken from them in the blink of an eye. That was us. I believe we didn't know how to accept that, to deal with it. The first miscarriage was something we never thought could happen, especially after hearing the baby's heartbeat during the first ultrasound appointment."

He began to massage his eyelids with the pads of his thumb and index finger, the memories settling upon him in a nimble of stress as he thought of how their lives went from bliss to a temporary demolition in the blink of an eye.

"I wanted to talk about it but Alicia was too devastated that she couldn't. And then one day," the pitch of his voice lifted, sounding as if he was mesmerized, "after weeks of being in some unreachable state, she woke up and was normal again. As though nothing happened. I didn't want to mention the miscarriage for fear of her going back to that dark place. So, we just swept it under the rug and moved on."

Adam narrowed his eyes. "Even after you came home and found her passed out in the middle of your bed from what you feared was an overdose. You _never_, spoke about _that_ time?"

Alicia clamped her eyes shut, wanting badly to leave the room. She felt as if she was nailed to a stake and they were continuously casting stones at her as she remained stretched out, unable to control the bandages being ripped off her soul.

"No. It happened, and we just, moved on."

"Did you ever want to talk about them? About the miscarriages and…_that day, _I mean."

Smoothing a hand over his mouth, Peter tiredly blinked as he nodded. "Well, sure. Mainly when I began to run out of excuses to tell our kids."

"They asked you questions about me?" she asked in low voice.

Adam arched his brow at her sudden attention. If anything, he could tell, this woman put her reputation and role as a mother above all.

"Yes." His heart softened considerably upon seeing the tears welling back into her eyes. "They used to ask me all the time when I took them to school in the mornings, 'what is wrong with Mom?'.

She blinked rapidly, trying to control the instant burning sensation of air being sucked from her lungs. _I wasn__'__t there for my children when they needed me. I wasn__'__t__…_ Closing her eyes, she pushed those thoughts from her mind. She wouldn't go back there.

"Alicia, why didn't you talk to Peter about your feelings?"

She swallowed hard as she clasped her hands together. "I wasn't sure what I was feeling. And then, he was always at work, so I—"

Peter sucked his teeth and shook his head in a spirit of incredulity. "Oh, don't use me being at work as an excuse. I told you repeatedly to call me whenever you were ready to talk about it."

"But how about the times when I thought I _was_ ready? Each time I called you, you told me you would be working late. That we would talk about it when you got home that night but it never happened because whenever you finally came home, I was asleep." She rolled her eyes. "Was your offer of a listening ear off the table because I took too long to gain the courage for us to have that discussion when you _had_ to go have sex with your prostitute?"

"Alicia." His palm covered his face as his head dropped in defeat. "When are you going to forgive me for that? When are you going to accept that you _chose_ to stay in this marriage, despite my infidelities? Or are you staying just to throw that back in my face every chance you get? To remind me of how much I hurt you? Because if that is your reason, I don't see the point in us being here."

She opened her mouth, then quickly closed it. She was expecting his usual verbal outburst, another screaming match to ensue. But instead, she was met with…dejection? And dare she say, an unwanted push for her to really look at herself. Because everything he said was right. Why was she singing the same tune and not truly making an attempt to right their wrongs?

Looking at Adam, she knew this time he wasn't going to fill in the blanks for her. He wasn't going to tickle her emotions by prompting her with a question, getting her to respond to this lifeline of an ultimatum Peter said. No. She needed to do what they had been lacking since everything went downhill. She needed to open that shut door and communicate.

"I don't know, Peter. I guess that's apart of the reason why I'm here."

Adam folded his hands together in a praying symbol and held his index fingers over his mouth. As he continued to observe them, he was keenly aware that if he prodded more, things would probably go downhill. A second time. He recalled of past sessions when couples had shared as much as them, how that wound they had carefully been covering with layer upon layer of denial was unexpectedly torn when he swooped in with the skilled knife to unearth and heal that damage. The entire experience left them simply raw. Alicia and Peter painted that picture right now. Their emotions were still running high, and he could sense they needed a breather. He didn't desire to hunt for deeper evaluations, chiefly when dealing with head strung individuals like them. They had had enough emotional revelations for one day. And the way Peter was eyeing her right now with that familiar burning look in his eyes which said she was stoking the fire of his temper, let him know they should probably lighten the subject matter for the last couple of minutes.

"Which, Alicia, I want us all to have figured out why you _both _are here once the day of our last session is upon us." He offered a gentle smile. "Ah, if you don't mind, I would like to switch gears for the remainder of this meeting. Feeding off of the theme of your marriage as a whole, the last time we were here, I asked you to write down one goal and one issue each of you wanted to work through and towards in your union and bring those written answers today. Did you?"

"Yeah," said Peter, "I have mine."

He began to reach into his breast pocket. Likewise, Alicia nodded as she reached down into her purse for her smaller notepad and flipped it open.

"Good." He smiled in confidence. At least they were listening. "Alicia, why don't you share first."

Taking a deep breath, she recrossed her legs and stared down at the elegantly printed words on her stationary she jotted down before coming here.

"My issue that I would like us to resolve is forgiveness. I want us to learn to forgive." She laughed lightly. "Actually, I guess that's more of a personal issue."

Adam shook his head in understanding. "No. Not at all. You both have a great deal of animosity towards the other in certain regards. It's perfectly sensible." He added his own note to the growing list. "And your goal?"

She stared down at the words, emotions rising in her she didn't expect. It was as if she was realizing—no, that she was letting herself _feel_ a sliver of hope for their marriage since its demise.

"To be one again," she whispered. "And if not, that we at least make peace."

Peter stared at her, all but shocked. _She really wants us back? _Yes, he initially wanted them to have therapy in lieu of getting a second chance. But in the back of his mind, he never believed she was really onboard. He always thought if anything, Adam would aid them in having an armistice divorce.

"Good. Thank you, Alicia." Adam's soothing voice broke his fog as he looked up to see his sophisticated focus back on him. "How about you?"

Clearing his throat, he peered down at the lit screen of his phone and began to read from the typed note. "My issue to resolve is that we communicate more. And my goal is that…" He lowered the phone and pivoted his head in her direction, willing her to meet his gaze. Within seconds their eyes met, and he knew she saw all the love he felt for her pouring from the windows of his soul at the slight opening of her mouth and that little breath she took. She always did that when he looked at her that way, no matter how many times she argued she didn't; he still knew her better than she knew herself.

"…my goal is that I get my wife back."

Adam watched them stare at the other, seeming as if they were hearing each other for the first time in a long time. They loved each other. Very much. That was plain as day. Despite everything, despite the hurtful words and accusations they dispelled, they _still _loved each other. Deeply. This was what he needed to see, to feel. That love. All doubts shattered from his mind whether or not he would be able to get them back on track. He now had everything he needed to fulfill both their goals and resolve those issues.

"Thank you both for sharing. That was a necessary and brave step for this treatment." Lowering his pen to his notepad, he twisted his watch around his wrist and checked the time. "And we will pick up with discussing what you voiced during our next session. I'm afraid we have run out of time for today."

They quickly broke their gaze and nodded. The flush of pink now coating Alicia's cheeks caused Adam to mask a puerile smile. Helping her to release and enjoy being a happy and content woman would be an even greater feat than repairing their marriage, he was positive. But it was a challenge he welcomed.

"Uh, any questions before you leave?"

"No," said Peter.

"Alicia?" asked Adam.

"No. I'm good."

"Before you go, I just want to acknowledge that some lesions were opened here today that neither of you anticipated. And regardless of how painful, I am confident when I say we are all grateful that they were vocalized." Neither agreed; instead they answered his observation with blank stares. They were drained and too exhausted to acknowledge their accomplishment. "I want you to go home and reflect on today. Just take a moment and…think about everything. From your written hopes for your marriage to your argument. And if during those moments you have a drift of clarity, communicate that with the other. Call, email, text, whatever method you choose. But I want you to learn to communicate like husband and wife again. And report that outcome during our next session."

"What if neither of us has that moment? Or forgets to tell the other?" asked Peter.

Adam laughed, knowing that was the question on the forefront of Alicia's mind.

"Then don't come back until you have," he joked causing them both to crack a smile. "But in all seriousness, I want you both to take a moment when you have the chance and just think about today. And if anything pops in your mind that you wished you would have said to the other, without me sitting here, I want you to communicate that. It doesn't have to be a drawn out conversation. It could be something said in a short and simple two or five-minutes." He laid out his hands in peace as he eyed them in all seriousness. "I just want you to…talk. Like you used to. I want you to take a premature step and get a taste of what it feels like to be one again…to have your wife back…to communicate…to think about how it could be if you forgave."

Alicia eyed him. _Oh, he__'__s a sneaky one._

Peter grinned as he rose from the couch and extended his hand out to Adam. "Will do. Thank you, Dr. Lewis. Until next week."

Adam rose as he shook his hand firmly. "Until next week."

He watched as Alicia likewise rose from her entombed posture upon the chair and shouldered her purse. The way she cautiously walked up to him, he wanted to envelope her in a hug. She had crossed a milestone today; they both had. Little did they know, the journey had just begun.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Communicate with him," he whispered back.

Nodding, she walked over to Peter waiting for her at the door. With a wave of their hands, they bid him a goodbye and disappeared from his line of sight.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Adam walked over to his desk and opened the bottom drawer to grab a crystal tumbler and bottle of vintage brandy he kept stashed away for times when he just wanted to relax and unwind. Pouring a shot's worth of the barrel aged drink, he took a long and slow sip as he stared at the couch where the Florrick's sat breaths ago. Although he felt that they had made progress, he knew he had just given them their most onerous trial yet.


End file.
